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THE COMEDY OF HUMAN LIFE 
 By H. DE BALZAC 
 
 PHILOSOPHICAL STUDIES 
 
 THE ALKAHEST 
 
 OR 
 
 THE HOUSE OF CLAES 
 
 (LA RECHERCHE DE L'ABSOLU) 
 
BALZAC'S NOVELS. 
 
 Translated by Miss K. P. Wormeley. 
 
 Alveady Published: 
 PERE GORIOT. 
 DUCHE3SE DE LANGEAIS. 
 RISE AnSTD FALL OF CESAR BIROTTEAU. 
 EUGENIE GRANDET. 
 COUSIN PONS. 
 THE COUNTRY DOCTOR. 
 THE TAVO BROTHERS. 
 THE ALKAHEST. 
 MODESTE MIGNON. 
 THE MAGIC SKIN (Peau de Chagrin). 
 COUSIN BETTE. 
 LOUIS LAMBERT. 
 BUREAUCRACY (Les Employes). 
 SERAPHITA. 
 SONS OP THE SOIL. 
 FAME AND SORROW. 
 • 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, 
 BOSTON. 
 
 Publishers, 
 
HONORE DE BALZAC 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 KATHARINE PRESCOTT WORMELEY 
 
 <THE ALKAHEST 
 
 OR 
 
 THE HOUSE OF CLAES 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS 
 
 3 SOMERSET STREET 
 
 BOSTON 
 i8qo 
 
Copyright, 1887, 
 By Roberts Brothers. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. 
 
THE ALKAHEST 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE HOUSE OF CLAES. 
 
 There is a house at Douai in the rue de Paris, 
 whose aspect, interior arrangements, and details have 
 preserved, to a greater1i6gl^e" than those of other domi- 
 ciles, the characteristics of the old Flemish buildings, 
 so naively adapted to the patriarchal manners and 
 customs of that excellent land. Before describing this 
 house it maj' be well, in the interest of other writers, to 
 explain the necessity for such didactic preliminaries, — 
 since they have roused a protest from certain ignorant 
 and voracious readers who want emotions without 
 undergoing the generating process, the flower without 
 the seed, the child without gestation. Is Art supposed 
 to have higher powers than Nature ? 
 
 The events of human existence, whether public or 
 private, are so closely allied to architecture that the 
 
 1 
 
2 The Alkahest. 
 
 majority of observers can reconstruct nations and in- 
 dividuals, in their habits and wa3's of life, from the 
 remains of public monuments or the relics of a home. 
 Archseolog}^ is to social nature what comparative anat- 
 omy is to organized nature. A mosaic tells the tale ol 
 a society, as the skeleton of an ichth3'osaurus opens 
 up a creative epoch. All things are linked together, 
 and all are therefore deducible. Causes suggest effects, 
 effects lead back to causes. Science resuscitates even 
 the warts of the past ages. 
 
 Hence the keen interest inspired by an architectural 
 description, provided the imagination of the writer does 
 not distort essential facts. The mind is enabled by rigid 
 deduction to link it with the past; and to man, the 
 past is singularly like the future ; tell him what has 
 been, and 3'ou seldom fail to show him what will be. 
 It is rare indeed that the picture of a locality where 
 lives are lived does not recall to some their dawning 
 hopes, to others their wasted faith. The comparison 
 between a present which disappoints man's secret 
 wishes and a future which may realize them, is an in- 
 exhaustible source of sadness or of placid content. 
 
 Thus, it is almost impossible not to feel a certain 
 tender sensibility over a picture of Flemish life, if the ac- 
 cessories are clearly given. Wh^^so? Perhaps, among 
 other forms of existence, it offers the best conclusion 
 to man's uncertainties. It has its social festivities, its 
 
The Alkahest 3 
 
 family ties, and the easy affluence which proves the 
 stability of its comfortable well-being ; it does not lack 
 repose amounting almost to beatitude ; but, above all, 
 it expresses the calm monotony of a frankly sensuous 
 happiness, where enjoyment stifles desire by anticipat- 
 ing it. Whatever value a passionate soul may attach 
 to the tumultuous life of feeling, it never sees without 
 emotion the symbols of this Flemish nature, where the 
 throbbings of the heart are so well regulated that 
 superficial minds deny the heart's existence. The 
 crowd prefers the abnormal force which overflows to 
 that which moves with steady persistence. The world 
 has neither time nor patience to realize the immense 
 power concealed beneath an appearance of uniformity. 
 Therefore, to impress this multitude earned away on 
 the current of existence, passion, like a great artist, 
 is compelled to go beyond the mark, to exaggerate, as 
 did Michael Angelo, Bianca Capello, Mademoiselle de 
 la Valliere, Beethoven, and Paganini. Far-seeing minds 
 alone disapprove such excess, and respect onty the en- 
 erg}^ represented bj^ a finished execution whose perfect 
 quiet charms superior men. The life of this essentially 
 thrifty people amply fulfils the conditions of happiness 
 which the masses desire as the lot of the average 
 citizen. 
 
 A refined materialism is stamped on all the habits of 
 Flemish life. English comfort is harsh in tone and 
 
4 The Alkahest 
 
 arid in color ; whereas the old-fashioned Flemish inte- 
 riors rejoice the QyQ with their mellow tiiits, and the 
 feelings with their genuine heartiness. There, work im- 
 plies no weariness, and the pipe is a' happy adaptation 
 of Neapolitan far-niente. Thence comes the peaceful 
 sentiment in Art (its most essential condition), pa- 
 tience, and the element which renders its creations 
 durable, namely, conscience. Indeed, the Flemish char- 
 acter lies in the two words, patience and conscience : 
 words which seem at first to exclude the richness of 
 poetic light and shade, and to make the manners and 
 customs of the country as flat as its vast plains, as 
 cold as its foggy skies. And j-et it is not so. Civili- 
 zation has brought her power to bear, and has modified 
 all things, even the effects of climate. If we observe 
 attentively the productions of various parts of the 
 globe, we are surprised to find that the prevailing tints 
 from the temperate zones are gray or fawn, while the 
 more brilliant colors belong to the products of the 
 hotter climates. The manners and customs of a coun- 
 tr3^ must naturally conform to this law of nature. 
 
 Flanders, which in former times was essentially 
 dun-colored and monotonous in tint, learned the means 
 of irradiating its smoky atmosphere through its politi- 
 cal vicissitudes, which brought it under the successive 
 dominion of Burgundy, Spain, and France, and threw 
 it into fraternal relations with Germany and Holland. 
 
The Alkahest. 5 
 
 From Spain ifc acquired the luxury of scarlet dje^ and 
 shimmering satins, tapestries of vigorous design, plumes, 
 mandolins, and courtly bearing. In exchange for its 
 linen and its laces, it brought from Venice that fairy 
 glass-ware in which wine sparkles and seems the mel- 
 lower. From Austria it learned the ponderous di- 
 plomacy which, to use a popular saying, takes three 
 steps backward to one forward ; while its trade with 
 India poured into it the grotesque designs of China and 
 the marvels of Japan. 
 
 And 3'et, in spite of its patience in gathering such 
 treasures, its tenacity in parting with no possession once 
 gained, its endurance of all things, Flanders was con- 
 sidered nothing more than tbe general storehouse of 
 Europe, until the day when the . discovery of tobacco 
 brought into one smoky outline the scattered features 
 of its national physiognomy. Thenceforth, and not- 
 withstanding the parcelling out of their territor3% the 
 Flemings became a people homogeneous through their 
 pipes and beer.^ 
 
 After assimilating, by constant sober regulation of 
 conduct, the products and the ideas of its masters and 
 its neighbors, this country of Flanders, by nature so 
 
 1 Flanders was parcelled into three divisions ; of which East- 
 ern Flanders, capital Ghent, and Western Flanders, capital Bruges, 
 are two provinces of Belgium. French Flanders, capital Lille, is 
 the Departement du Nord of France. Douai, about twenty miles 
 from Lille, is the chief town of the arrondissement du Nord. 
 
6 The Alkahest. 
 
 tame and devoid of poetry, worked out for itself an 
 original existence, with characteristic manners and cus- 
 toms which bear no signs of servile imitation. Art 
 stripped off its ideality and produced form alone. We 
 may seek in vain for plastic grace, the swing of comedy, 
 dramatic action, musical genius, or the bold flight of 
 ode and epic. On the other hand, the people are fer- 
 tile in discoveries, and trained to scientific discussions 
 which demand time and the midnight oil. All things 
 bear the ear-mark of temporal enjoyment. There men 
 look exclusively to the thing that is : their thoughts are 
 so scrupulously bent on supplying the wants of this life 
 that they have never risen, in anj^ direction, above the 
 level of this present earth. The sole idea they have 
 ever conceived of the future is that of a thrifty, prosaic 
 statecraft: their revolution arj^ vigor came from a do- 
 mestic desire to live as they liked, with their elbows 
 on the table, and to take their ease under the projecting 
 roofs of their own porches. 
 
 The consciousness of well-being and the spirit of inde- 
 pendence which comes of prosperity begot in Flanders, 
 sooner than elsewhere, that craving for liberty which, 
 later, permeated all Europe. Thus the compactness of 
 their ideas, and the tenacity which education grafted on 
 their nature made the Flemish people a formidable 
 body of men in the defence of their rights. Among 
 them nothing is half-done, — neither houses, furniture; 
 
The Alkahest 7 
 
 dikes, husbandry, nor revolutions ; and they hold a 
 monopoly of all that they undertake. The manufacture 
 of linen, and that of lace, a work of patient agriculture 
 and still more patient industry, are hereditar}^ like their 
 family fortunes. If we were asked to show in human 
 form the purest specimen of solid stabilitj^, we could do 
 no better than point to a portrait of some old burgo- 
 master, capable, as was proved again and again, of 
 dying in a commonplace way, and without the incite- 
 ments of glor}^ for the welfare of his Free-town. 
 
 Yet we shall find a tender and poetic side to this 
 patriarchal life, which will come naturally to the surface 
 in the description of an ancient house which, at the 
 period when this history begins, was one of the last 
 in Douai to preserve the old-time characteristics of 
 Flemish life. 
 
 Of all the towns in the Departement du Nord, Douai 
 is, alas, the most modernized : there the innovating 
 spirit has made the gi-eatest strides, and the love of 
 social progress is the most diffused. There the old 
 buildings are daily disappearing, and the manners and 
 customs of a venerable past are being rapidl}- obliterated. 
 Parisian ideas and fashions and modes of life now rule 
 the daj^, and soon nothing will be left of that ancient 
 Flemish life but the warmth of its hospitality, its tra- 
 ditional Spanish courtesy, and the wealth and cleanli- 
 ness of Holland. Mansions of white stone are replacing 
 
8 Tlie Alkahest. 
 
 the old brick buildings, and the cos}^ comfort of Bata- 
 vian interiors is fast yielding before the capricious 
 elegance of Parisian novelties. 
 
 The house in which the events of this histor}^ oc- 
 curred stands at about the middle of the rue de Paris, 
 and has been known at Douai for more than two cen- 
 turies as the House of Claes. The Van Claes were 
 formerly one of the great families of craftsmen to 
 whom, in various lines of production, the Netherlands 
 owed a commercial supremacj^ which it has never lost. 
 For a long period of time the Claes lived at Ghent, and 
 were, from generation to generation, the S3'ndics of the 
 powerful Guild of Weavers. When the great cit}'- re- 
 volted against Charles V., who tried to suppress its 
 privileges, the head of the Claes family was so deeply 
 compromised in the rebellion that, foreseeing a catas- 
 trophe and bound to share the fate of his associates, he 
 secretly sent wife, children, and property to France 
 before the Emperor invested the town. The syndic's 
 forebodings were justified. Together with other burgh- 
 ers who were excluded from the capitulation, he was 
 hanged as a rebel, though he was, in reality, the 
 defender of the liberties of Ghent. 
 
 The death of Claes and his associates bore fruit. 
 Their needless execution cost the King of Spain the 
 greater part of his possessions in tlie Netherlands. Of 
 all the seed sown in the earth, the blood of martyrs 
 
The Alkahest, 9 
 
 gives the quickest harvest. When Philip the Second, 
 who punished revolt through two generations, stretched 
 his iron sceptre over Douai, the Claes preserved their 
 great wealth by all3'ing themselves in marriage with the 
 very noble family of Molina, whose elder branch, then 
 poor, thus became rich enough to buy the county of 
 Nourho which they had long held titularly in the king- 
 dom of Leon. 
 
 At the beginning of the nineteenth century, after 
 vicissitudes which are of no interest to our present 
 purpose, the family of Claes was represented at Douai 
 in the person of Monsieur Balthazar Claes-Molina, 
 Comte de Nourho, who preferred to be called simply 
 Balthazar Claes. Of the immense fortune amassed by 
 his ancestors, who had kept in motion over a thousand 
 looms, there remained to him some fifteen thousand 
 francs a year from landed property in the arrondisse- 
 ment of Douai, and the house in the rue de Paris, whose 
 furniture in itself was a fortune. As to the family pos- 
 sessions in Leon, they had been in litigation between 
 the Molinas of Douai and the branch of the family 
 which remained in Spain. The Molinas of Leon 
 won the domain and assumed the title of Comtes de 
 Nourho, though the Claes alone had a legal right to it. 
 But the pride of a Belgian burgher was superior to the 
 haughty arrogance of Castile: after the civil rights 
 were instituted, Balthazar Claes cast aside the ragged 
 
10 The Alkahest, 
 
 robes of his Spanish nobiUty for his more illustrious 
 descent from the Ghent martyr. 
 
 The patriotic sentiment was so strongly developed 
 in, the families exiled under Charles V. that, to the 
 very close of the eighteenth century, the Claes remained 
 faithful to the manners and customs and traditions of 
 their ancestors. They married into none but the purest 
 burgher families, and required a certain number of 
 aldermen and burgomasters in the pedigree of every 
 bride-elect before admitting her to the famil3\ They 
 sought their wives in Bruges or Ghent, in Liege or in 
 Holland ; so that the time-honored domestic customs 
 might be perpetuated around their hearthstones. This 
 social group became more and more restricted, until, 
 at the close of the last century, it mustered only some 
 seven or eight families of the parliamentary nobilitj', 
 whose manners and flowing robes of office and magiste- 
 rial gravity (partly Spanish) harmonized well with the 
 habits of their life. 
 
 The inhabitants of Douai held the family in a reli- 
 gious esteem that was well-nigh superstition. The 
 sturdy honestj^ the untainted loyalty of the Claes, their 
 unfailing decorum of manners and conduct, made them 
 the objects of a reverence which found expression in 
 the name, — the House of Claes. The whole spirit of 
 ancient Flanders breathed in that mansion, which af- 
 forded to the lovers of burgher antiquities a type of the 
 
Tlie Alkahest. 11 
 
 modest houses which the wealthy craftsmen of the 
 Middle Ages constructed for their homes. 
 
 The chief ornament of the fa9ade was an oaken door, 
 in two sections, studded with nails driven in the pat- 
 tern of a quincunx, in the centre of which the Claes 
 pride had carved a pair of shuttles. The recess of the 
 doorwa}^, which was built of freestone, was topped by 
 a pointed arch bearing a little shrine surmounted hy a 
 cross, in which was a statuette of Sainte-Genevieve ply- 
 ing her distaff. Though time had left its mark upon 
 the delicate workmanship of portal and shrine, the ex- 
 treme care taken of it by the servants of the house 
 allowed the passers-by to note all its details. 
 
 The casing of the door, formed by fluted pilasters, 
 ■was dark gra}' in color, and so highly polished that it 
 shone as if varnished. On either side of the doorway, 
 on the ground-floor, were two windows, which resembled 
 all the other windows of the house. The casing of 
 white stone ended below the sill in a richly carved shell, 
 and rose above the window in an arch, supported at its 
 apex by the head-piece of a cross, which divided the 
 glass sashes in four unequal parts ; for the transversal 
 bar, placed at the height of that in a Latin cross, made 
 the lower sashes of the window nearly double the height 
 of the upper, the latter rounding at the sides into the 
 arch. The coping of the arch was ornamented with 
 three rows of brick, placed one above the other, the 
 
12 The Alkahest. 
 
 bricks alternately projecting or retreating to the depth 
 of an inch, giving the effect of a Greek moulding. The 
 glass panes, which were small and diamond-shaped, 
 were set in very slender leading, painted red. The 
 walls of the house, of brick pointed with white mortar, 
 were braced at regular distances, and at the angles of 
 the house, hj stone courses. 
 
 The first floor was pierced by five windows, the sec- 
 ond by three, while the attic had only one large circular 
 opening in five divisions, surrounded hy a freestone 
 moulding and placed in the centre of the triangular ped- 
 iment defined by the gable-roof, like the rose-window of 
 a cathedral. At the peak was a vane in the shape of a 
 weaver's shuttle threaded with flax. Both sides of the 
 large triangular pediment which formed the wall of the 
 gable were dentelled squarely into something like steps, 
 as low down as the string-course of the upper floor, 
 where the rain from the roof fell to right and left of the 
 house through the jaws of a fantastic gargoyle. A 
 freestone foundation projected like a step at the base 
 of the house ; and on either side of the entrance, be- 
 tween the two windows, was a trap-door, clamped by 
 heavy iron bands, through which the cellars were 
 entered, — a last vestige of ancient usages. 
 
 From the time the house was built, this fa9ade had 
 been carefully cleaned twice a year. If a little mortar 
 fell from between the bricks, the crack was instantly 
 
The Alkahest, 13 
 
 filled up. The sashes, the sills, the copings, were 
 dusted oftener than the most precious sculptures in the 
 Louvre. The front of the house bore no signs of decaj' ; 
 notwithstanding the deepened color which age had given 
 to the bricks, it was as well preserved as a choice old 
 picture, or some rare book cherished by an amateur, 
 wliich would be ever new were it not for the blistering 
 of our chmate and the effect of gases, whose pernicious 
 breath threatens our own health. 
 
 The cloudy skies and humid atmosphere of Flanders, 
 and the shadows produced by the narrowness of the 
 street, sometimes diminished the brilKancy which the 
 old house derived from its cleanliness; moreover, 
 the very care bestowed upon it made it rather sad and 
 chilling to the ej'e. A poet might have wished some 
 leafage about the shrine, a little moss in the crevices of 
 the freestone, a break in the even courses of the brick ; 
 he would have longed for the swallow to build her nest 
 in the red coping that roofed the arches of the windows. 
 The precise and immaculate air of this fa9ade, a little 
 worn by perpetual rubbing, gave the house a tone of 
 severe propriety and estimable decency which would 
 have driven a romanticist out of the neighborhood, had 
 he happened to take lodgings over the way. 
 
 When a visitor had pulled the braided iron wire bell- 
 cord which hung from the top of the pilaster of the 
 doorway, and the servant- woman, coming from within, 
 
14 The Alkahest, 
 
 had admitted him through the side of the double-door 
 in which was a small grated loop-hole, that half of the 
 door escaped from her hand and swung back by its own 
 weight with a solemn, ponderous sound that echoed 
 along the roof of a wide paved archway and through 
 the depths of the house, as though the door had been of 
 iron. This archwaj^, painted to resemble marble, al- 
 ways clean and daily sprinkled with fresh sand, led into 
 a large court-yard paved with smooth square stones of 
 a greenish color. On the left were the linen-rooms, 
 kitchens, and servants' hall; to the right, the wood- 
 house, coal-house, and offices, whose doors, walls, and 
 windows were decorated with designs kept exquisitely 
 clean. The daylight, threading its way between four 
 red walls chequered with white lines, caught rosy tints 
 and reflections which gave a m3'sterious grace and fan- 
 tastic appearance to faces, and even to trifling details. 
 
 A second house, exactly like the building on the 
 sti'eet, and called in Flanders the " back-quarter," stood 
 at the farther end of the court-yard, and was used ex- 
 clusively as the family dwelling. The first room on the 
 ground-floor was a parlor, lighted b}^ two windows on 
 the court-3"ard, and two more looking out upon a gar- 
 den which was of the same size as the house. Two 
 glass doors, placed exactly opposite to each other, led 
 at one end of the room to the garden, at the other 
 to the coui-t-yard, and were in line with the archway 
 
The AUmhesL 15 
 
 and the street door ; so that a visitor entering the 
 latter could see through to the greenery which draped 
 the lower end of the garden. The front building, which 
 was reserved for receptions and the lodging-rooms of 
 guests, held many objects of art and accumulated 
 wealth, but none of them equalled in the eyes of a 
 Claes, nor indeed in the judgment of a connoisseur, 
 the treasures contained in the parlor, where for over 
 two centuries the family life had glided on. 
 
 The Claes who died for the liberties of Ghent, and 
 who might in these days be thought a mere ordinary 
 craftsman if the historian omitted to say that he pos- 
 sessed over forty thousand silver marks, obtained by 
 the manufacture of sail-cloth for the all-powerful Vene- 
 tian navy, — this Claes had a friend in the famous 
 sculptor in wood, Van Huysum of Bruges. The artist 
 had dipped many a time into the purse of the rich 
 craftsman. Some time before the rebellion of the men 
 of Ghent, Van Huysum, grown rich himself, had secretly 
 carved for his friend a wall-decoration in ebony, repre- 
 senting the chief scenes in the life of Van Artevelde, — 
 that brewer of Ghent who, for a brief hour, was King 
 of Flanders. This wall-covering, of which there were 
 no less than sixty panels, contained about fourteen 
 hundred principal figures,, and was held to be Van 
 Huy sum's masterpiece. The officer appointed to guard 
 the burghers whom Charles V. determined to hang when 
 
16 The Alkahest. 
 
 he re-entered his native town, proposed, it is said, to 
 Van Claes to let him escape if he would give him Van 
 Huysum's great work ; but the weaver had already 
 despatched it to Douai. 
 
 The parlor, whose walls were entirely panelled with 
 this carving, which Van Huysum, out of regard for the 
 martyr's memory, came to Douai to frame in wood 
 painted in lapis-lazuli with threads of gold, is therefore 
 the most complete work of this master, whose least carv- 
 ings now sell for nearly their weight in gold. Hanging 
 over the fire-place, Van Claes the mart;yT, painted by 
 Titian in his robes as president of the Court of Parchons, 
 still seemed the head of the family, who venerated him 
 as their greatest man. The chimnej'-piece, originally 
 in stone with a yQvy high mantle-shelf, had been made 
 over in marble during the last century ; on it now stood 
 an old clock and two candlesticks with five twisted 
 branches, in bad taste, but of solid silver. The four 
 windows were draped by wide curtains of red damask 
 with a flowered black design, lined with white silk ; the 
 furniture, covered with the same material, had been ren- 
 ovated in the time of Louis XIV. The floor, evidently 
 modern, was laid in large squares of white wood bor- 
 dered with strips of oak. The ceiling, formed of many 
 oval •panels, in each of which Van Hu^'sum had carved 
 a grotesque mask, had been respected and allowed to 
 keep the brown tones of the native Dutch oak. 
 
The AlkahesL 17 
 
 In the four corners of this parlor were truncated 
 columns, supporting candelabra exactly like those on 
 the mantle-shelf ; and a round table stood in the middle 
 of the room. Along the walls card- tables were s^^m- 
 metricallj placed. On two gilded consoles with marble 
 slabs there stood, at the period when this historj^ be- 
 gins, two glass globes filled with water, in which, above 
 a bed of sand and shells, red and gold and silver fish 
 were swimming about. The room was both brilliant 
 and sombre. The ceiling necessarily absorbed the light 
 and reflected none. Although on the garden side all was 
 bright and glowing, and the sunshine danced upon the 
 ebony carvings, the windows on the court-3'ard admitted 
 so little light that the gold threads in the lapis-lazuli 
 scarcely glittered on the opposite wall. This parlor, 
 which could be gorgeous on a fine day, was usually, 
 under the Flemish skies, filled with soft shadows and 
 melancholy russet tones, like those shed by the sun on 
 the tree-tops of the forests in autumn. 
 
 It is unnecessary to continue this description of the 
 House of Claes, in other parts of which many scenes 
 of this history will occur ; at present, it is enough to 
 make known its general arrangement. 
 
18 The Alkahest, 
 
 II. 
 
 Towards the end of August, 1812, on a Sunday 
 evening after vespers, a woman was sitting in a deep 
 armchair placed before one of the windows looking out 
 upon the garden. The sun's ra3'S fell obliquely upon 
 the house and athwart the parlor, breaking into fan- 
 tastic lights on the carved panellings of the wall, and 
 wrapping the woman in a crimson halo projected through 
 the damask curtains which draped the window. Even 
 an ordinary painter, had he sketched this woman at this 
 particular moment, would assuredly have produced a 
 striking picture of a head that was full of pain and mel- 
 anchoty. The attitude of the body, and that of the feet 
 stretched out before her, showed the prostration of one 
 who loses consciousness of physical being in the con- 
 centration of powers absorbed in a fixed idea : she was 
 following its gleams in the far future, just as sonietimes 
 on the shores of the sea, we gaze at a ray of sunlight 
 which pierces the clouds and draws a luminous line 
 to the horizon. 
 
 The hands of this woman hung nerveless outside the 
 arms of her chair, and her head, as if too heavy to hold 
 
The Alkahest. 19 
 
 up, lay back upon its cushions. A dress of white cam- 
 bric, very full and flowing, hindered any judgment as to 
 the proportions of her figure, and the bust was con- 
 cealed by the folds of a scarf crossed on the bosom and 
 neghgently knotted. If the light had not thrown into 
 relief her face, which she seemed to show in prefer- 
 ence to the rest of her person, it would still have been 
 impossible to escape riveting the attention exclusivel3^ 
 upon it. Its expression of stupefaction, which was cold 
 and rigid despite hot tears that were rolling from her 
 e3'es, would have struck the most thoughtless mind. 
 Nothing is more terrible to behold than excessive grief 
 that is rarely allowed to break forth, of which traces 
 were left on this woman's face like lava congealed 
 about a crater. She might have been a dying mother 
 compelled to leave her children in abysmal depths of 
 wretchedness, unable to bequeath them to any human 
 protector. 
 
 The countenance of this lady, then about forty years 
 of age and not nearly so far from handsome as she had 
 been in her youth, bore none of the characteristics of a 
 Flemish woman. Ilcr thick black hair fell in heavy 
 curls upon her shoulders and about her cheeks. The 
 forehead, very prominent, and narrow at the temples, 
 was yellow in tint, but beneath it sparkled two black 
 eyes that were capable of emitting flames. Her face, 
 altogether Spanish, dark skinned, with little color and 
 
20 The Alkahest 
 
 pitted by the small-pox, attracted the eye b3^the beauty 
 of its oval, whose outline, though slightly impaired by 
 time, preserved a finished elegance and dignity, and 
 regained at times its full perfection when some effort of 
 the soul restored its pristine purity. The most notice- 
 able feature in this strong face was the nose, aquiline 
 as the beak of an eagle, and so sharply curved at the 
 middle as to give the idea of an interior malformation ; 
 3'et there was an air of indescribable delicacy about it, 
 and the partition between the nostrils was so thin that 
 a rosy light shone through it. Though the lips, which 
 were large and curved, betrayed the pride of noble 
 birth, their expression was one of kindliness and natu- 
 ral courtes3\ 
 
 The beauty of this vigorous j^et feminine face might 
 indeed be questioned, but the face itself commanded 
 attention. Short, deformed, and lame, this woman re- 
 mained all the longer unmarried because the world ob- 
 stinately refused to credit her with gifts of mind. 
 Yet there were men who were deeplj^ stirred by the pas- 
 sionate ardor of that face and its tokens of ineffable 
 tenderness, and who remained under a charm that was 
 seemingly irreconcilable with such personal defects. 
 
 She was very like her grandfather, the Duke of Casa- 
 Real, a grandee of Spain. At this moment, when we 
 first see her, the charm which in earlier days despoti- 
 cally grasped the soul of poets and lovers of poesy now 
 
The Alkahest. 21 
 
 emanated from that head with greater vigor than at any- 
 former period of her life, spending itself, as it were, 
 upon the void, and expressing a nature of all-powerful 
 fascination over men, though it was at the same time 
 powerless over destiny. 
 
 When her eyes turned from the glass globes, where 
 they were gazing at the fish they saw not, she raised 
 them with a despairing action, as if to invoke the skies. 
 Her sufferings seemed of a kind that are told to God 
 alone. The silence was unbroken save for the chirp 
 of crickets and the shrill whirr of a few locusts, coming 
 from the little garden then hotter than an oven, and the 
 dull sound of silver and plates, and the moving of chairs 
 in the adjoining room, where a servant was preparing 
 to serve the dinner. 
 
 At this moment, the distressed woman roused herself 
 from her abstraction and listened attentively ; she took 
 her handkerchief, wiped away her tears, attempted to 
 smile, and so resolutely effaced the expression of pain 
 that was stamped on every feature that she pres- 
 ently seemed in the state of happy indifference which 
 comes with a life exempt from care. Whether it were 
 that the habit of living in this house to which infirmities 
 confined her enabled her to perceive certain natural 
 effects that are imperceptible to the senses of others, but 
 which persons under the influence of excessive feeling 
 are keen to discover, or whether Nature, in compensation 
 
22 The Alkahest. 
 
 for her physical defects, had given her more delicate 
 sensations than better organized beings, — it is certain 
 that this woman had heard the steps of a man in a gallery 
 built above the kitchens and the servants' hall, by which 
 the front house communicated with the ''back-quarter." 
 The steps grew more distinct. Soon, without possess- 
 ing the power of this ardent creature to abolish space 
 and meet her other self, even a stranger would have 
 heard the foot-fall of a man upon the staircase which 
 led down from the gallery to the parlor. 
 
 The sound of that step would have startled the most 
 heedless being into thought ; it was impossible to hear 
 it coolly. A precipitate, headlong step produces fear. 
 When a man springs forward and cries, " Fire ! " his 
 feet speak as loudly as his voice. If this be so, then a 
 contrary gait ought not to cause less powerful emotion. 
 Tiie slow approach, the dragging step of the coming 
 man might have irritated an unreflecting spectator ; but 
 an observer, or a nervous person, would undoubtedly 
 have felt something akin to terror at the measured tread 
 of feet that seemed devoid of life, and under which the 
 stairs creaked loudly, as though two iron weights were 
 striking them alternately. The mind recognized at 
 once either the heav}^, undecided step of an old man or 
 the majestic tread of a great thinker bearing the worlds 
 with him. 
 
 When the man had reached the lowest stair, and had 
 
The Alkahest, 23 
 
 planted both feet upon the tiled floor with a hesitating, 
 uncertain movement, he stood still for a moment on the 
 wide landing which led on one side to the sei-vants' hall, 
 and on the other to the parlor through a door concealed 
 in the panelling of that room, — as was another door, 
 leading from the parlor to the dining-room. At this 
 moment a slight shudder, like the sensation caused by 
 an electric spark, shook the woman seated in the arm- 
 chair ; then a soft smile brightened her lips, and her 
 face, moved by the expectation of a pleasure, shone like 
 that of an Italian Madonna. She suddenly gained 
 strength to drive her terrors back into the depths of 
 her heart. Then she turned her face to the panel of 
 the wall which she knew was about to open, and which 
 in fact was now pushed in with such brusque violence 
 that the poor woman herself seemed jarred by the shock. 
 Balthazar Claes suddenly appeared, made a few steps 
 forward, did not look at the woman, or if he looked at 
 her did not see her, and stood erect in the middle of 
 the parlor, leaning his half-bowed head on his right 
 hand. A sharp pang to which the woman could not 
 accustom herself, although it was daily renewed, wrung 
 her heart, dispelled her smile, contracted the sallow 
 forehead between the eyebrows, indenting that line 
 which the frequent expression of excessive feeling 
 scores so deeply ; her eyes filled with tears, but she 
 wiped them quickly as she looked at Balthazar. 
 
24 Tlie Alkahest 
 
 It was impossible not to be deeply impressed hy this 
 head of the family of Claes. When young, he must 
 have resembled the noble family martj^r who had 
 threatened to be another Artevelde to Charles V. ; but 
 as he stood there at this moment, he seemed over sixty 
 years of age, though he was onl}^ fifty ; and this prema- 
 ture old age had destroyed the honorable likeness. His 
 tall figure was slightly bent, — either because his labors, 
 whatever the}^ were, obliged him to stoop, or that the 
 spinal column was curved by the weight of his head. 
 He had a broad chest and square shoulders, but the 
 lower parts of the body were lank and wasted, though 
 nervous ; and this discrepancy in a phj'sical organiza- 
 tion evidently once perfect puzzled the mind which 
 endeavored to explain this anomalous figure by some 
 possible singularities of the man's life. 
 
 His thick blond hair, ill cared-for, fell over his shoul- 
 ders in the Dutch fashion, and its very disorder was in 
 keeping with the general eccentricity of his person. 
 His broad brow showed certain protuberances which 
 Gall identifies with poetic genius. His clear and full 
 blue eyes had the brusque vivacity which may be 
 noticed in searchers for occult causes. The nose, 
 probably perfect in earh^ life, was now elongated, and 
 the nostrils seemed to have gradually opened wider 
 from an involuntary tension of the olfactory muscles. 
 The cheek-bones were very prominent, which made the 
 
The Alkahest 25 
 
 cheeks themselves, already withered, seem more sunken ; 
 his mouth, full of sweetness, was squeezed in between 
 the nose and a short chin, which projected sharpl3\ 
 The shape of the face, however, was long rather than 
 oval, and the scientific doctrine which sees in every 
 human face a likeness to an animal would have found 
 its confirmation in that of Balthazar Claes, which bore a 
 strong resemblance to a horse's head. The skin clung 
 closely to the bones, as though some inward fire were 
 incessantly drying its juices. Sometimes, when he 
 gazed into space, as if to see the realization of his 
 hopes, it almost seemed as though the flames that 
 devoured his soul were issuing from his nostrils. 
 
 The inspired feelings that animate great men shone 
 forth on the pale face furrowed with wrinkles, on the 
 brow haggard with care like that of an old monarch, 
 but above all they gleamed in the sparkling eye, whose 
 fires were fed by chastity imposed by the tyranny of 
 ideas and by the inward consecration of a great intel- 
 lect. The cavernous eyes seemed to have sunk in their 
 orbits through midnight vigils and the terrible reaction 
 of hopes destroyed, yet ceaselessly reborn. The zealous 
 fanaticism inspired by an art or a science was evident 
 in this man ; it betrayed itself in the strange, persistent 
 abstraction of his mind expressed by his dress and bear- 
 ing, which were in keeping with the anomalous pecu- 
 liarities of his person. 
 
26 The Alkahest. 
 
 His large, hairy hands were dirty, and the nails, 
 which were very long, had deep black lines at their 
 extremities. His shoes were not cleaned and the shoe- 
 strings were missing. Of all that Flemish household, 
 the master alone took the strange liberty of being slov- 
 enly. His black cloth trousers were covered with 
 stains, his waistcoat was unbuttoned, his cravat awry, 
 his greenish coat ripped at the seams, — completing an 
 array of signs, great and small, which in any other man 
 would have betokened a poverty begotten of vice, but 
 which in Balthazar Claes was the negligence of genius. 
 
 Vice and Genius too often produce the same effects ; 
 and this misleads the common mind. What is genius 
 but a long excess which squanders time and wealth and 
 ph3'sical powers, and leads more rapidly to a hospital 
 than the worst of passions ? Men even seem to have 
 more respect for vices than for genius, since to the lat- 
 ter they refuse credit. The profits accruing from the 
 hidden labors of the brain are so remote that the social 
 world fears to square accounts with the man of learning 
 in his lifetime, preferring to get rid of its obligations by 
 not forgiving his misfortunes or his poverty. 
 
 If, in spite of this inveterate forgetfulness of the 
 present, Balthazar Claes had abandoned his mysteri- 
 ous abstractions, if some sweet and companionable 
 meaning had revisited that- thoughtful countenance, if 
 the fixed eyes had lost their rigid strain and shone with 
 
The Alkahest, 27 
 
 feeling, if he had ever looked humanly about him and 
 returned to the real life of common things, it would 
 indeed have been difficult not to do involuntary homage 
 to the winning beauty of his face and the gracious soul 
 that would then have shone from it. As it was, all 
 who looked at him regretted that the man belonged no 
 more to the world at large, and said to one another : 
 *' He must have been very handsome in his youth." A 
 vulgar error ! Never was Balthazar Claes's appearance 
 more poetic than at this moment. Lavater, had he seen 
 him, would fain have studied that head so full of pa- 
 tience, of Flemish loyalty, and pure moralitj^, — where 
 all was broad and noble, and passion seemed calm be- 
 cause it was strong. 
 
 The conduct of this man could not be otherwise than 
 pure ; his word was sacred, his friendships seemed un- 
 deviating, his self-devotedness complete : and yet the 
 will to employ those qualities in patriotic service, for 
 the world or for the familj^, was directed, fatally, else- 
 where. This citizen, bound to guard the welfare of a 
 household, to manage property, to guide his children 
 towards a noble future, was living outside the line of 
 his duty and his affections, in communion with an at- 
 tendant spirit. A priest might have thought him in- 
 spired by the word of God ; an artist would have hailed 
 him as a great master ; an ehthusiast would have taken 
 him for a seer of the Swedenborgian faith. 
 
28 The Alkahest. 
 
 At the present moment, the dilapidated, uncouth, 
 and ruined clothes that he wore contrasted strangely 
 with the graceful elegance of the woman who was sadly 
 admiring him. Deformed persons who have intellect, 
 or nobilit}^ of soul, show an exquisite taste in their ap- 
 parel. Either they dress simply, convinced that their 
 charm is wholly moral, or they make others forget their 
 imperfections by an elegance of detail which diverts the 
 eye and occupies the mind. Not only did this woman 
 possess a noble soul, but she loved Balthazar Claes 
 with that instinct of the woman which gives a foretaste 
 of the communion of angels. Brought up in one of the 
 most illustrious families of Belgium, she would have 
 learned good taste had she not possessed it ; and now, 
 taught by the desire of constantly pleasing the man she 
 loved, she knew how to clothe herself adrairabl}', and 
 without producing incongruity between her elegance and 
 the defects of her conformation. The bust, however, 
 was defective in the shoulders only, one of which was 
 noticeably much larger than the other. 
 
 She looked out of the window into the court-yard, 
 then towards the garden, as if to make sure she was 
 alone with Balthazar, and presently said, in a gentle 
 voice and with a look full of a Flemish woman's sub- 
 missiveness, — for between these two love had long 
 since driven out the pride of her Spanish nature : — 
 
 "Balthazar, are you so very busy? this is the 
 
The Alkahest 29 
 
 thirty-third Sunday since you have been to mass or 
 vespers." 
 
 Claes did not answer; his wife bowed her head, 
 clasped her hands, and waited: she knew that his 
 silence meant neither contempt nor indifference, only a 
 t3Tannous preoccupation. Balthazar was one of those 
 beings who preserve deep in their souls and after long 
 years all their youthful delicacy of feeling ; he would 
 have thought it criminal to wound by so much as a 
 word a woman weighed down by the sense of physical 
 disfigurement. No man knew better than he that a 
 look, a word, suffices to blot out 3'ears of happiness, 
 and is the more cruel because it contrasts with the un- 
 failing tenderness of the past : our nature leads us to 
 suffer more from one discord in our happiness than 
 pleasure coming in the midst of trouble can bring us 
 
 joy- 
 Presently Balthazar appeared to waken ; he looked 
 
 quickly about him, and said, — 
 
 '' Vespers? Ah, yes ! the children are at vespers." 
 He made a few steps forward, and looked into the 
 
 garden, where magnificent tulips were growing on all 
 
 sides ; then he suddenly stopped short as if brought up 
 
 against a wall, and cried out, — 
 
 ''Why should they not combine within a given 
 
 time?" 
 
 *' Is he going mad?" thought the wife, much terrified. 
 
30 Tlie Alkahest. 
 
 To give greater interest to the present scene, which 
 was called forth by the situation of their affairs, it is 
 absolutely necessary to glance back at the past lives of 
 Balthazar Claes and the granddaughter of the Duke of 
 Casa-Real . 
 
 Towards the year 1783, Monsieur Balthazar Claes- 
 Molina de Nourho, then twenty-two years of age, was 
 what is called in France a fine man. He came to finish 
 his education in Paris, where he acquired excellent 
 manners in the societ}^ of Madame d'Egmont, Count 
 Horn, the Prince of Aremberg, the Spanish ambassa- 
 dor, Helvetius, and other Frenchmen originally from 
 Belgium, or coming lately thence, whose birth or wealth 
 won them admittance among the great seigneurs who 
 at that time gave the tone to social life. Young Claes 
 found several relations and friends ready to launch him 
 into the great world at the ver3' moment when that 
 world was about to fall. Like other young men, he 
 was at first more attracted by glory and science than 
 by the vanities of life. He frequented the society of 
 scientific men, particularly Lavoisier, who at thiat time 
 was better known to the world for his enormous fortune 
 as Q. fermier-general than for his discoveries in chemis- 
 try, — though later the great chemist was to eclipse the 
 man of wealth. 
 
 Balthazar grew enamoured of the science which La- 
 voisier cultivated, and became his devoted disciple ; 
 
The Alkahest, 31 
 
 but he was young, and handsome as Helvetius, and be- 
 fore long the Parisian women taught him to distil wit 
 and love exclusively. Though he had studied chemis- 
 try with such ardor that Lavoisier commended him, he 
 deserted science and his master for those mistresses of 
 fashion and good taste from whom young men take fin- 
 ishing lessons in knowledge of life, and learn the usages 
 of good society, which in Europe forms, as it were, one 
 family. 
 
 The intoxicating dream of social success lasted but a 
 short time. Balthazar left Paris, weary of a hollow 
 existence which suited neither his ardent soul nor his 
 loving heart. Domestic life, so calm, so tender, which 
 the very name of Flanders recalled to him, seemed far 
 more fitted to his character and to the aspirations of 
 his heart. No gilded Parisian salon had effaced from 
 his mind the harmonies of the panelled parlor and the 
 little garden where his happy childhood had slipped 
 awa3% A man must needs be without a home to re- 
 main in Paris, — Paris, the city of cosmopolitans, of 
 men who wed the world, and clasp her with the arms 
 of Science, Art, or Power. 
 
 The son of Flanders came back to Douai, like La 
 Fontaine's pigeon to its nest ; he wept with joy as he 
 re-entered the town on the daj^ of the Ga3'ant proces- 
 sion, — Gayant, the superstitious luck of Douai, the 
 glory of Flemish traditions, introduced there at the 
 
32 The Alkahest. 
 
 time the Claes family had emigrated from Ghent. The 
 death of Balthazar's father and mother had left the old 
 mansion deserted, and the j^oung man was occupied for 
 a time in settling its affairs. His first grief over, he 
 wished to marry ; he needed the domestic happiness 
 whose every religious aspect had fastened upon his 
 mind. He even followed the family custom of seeking 
 a wife in Ghent, or at Bruges, or Antwerp ; but it hap- 
 pened that no woman whom he met there suited him. 
 Undoubtedly, he had certain peculiar ideas as to mar- 
 riage ; from his youth he had been accused of never 
 following the beaten track. 
 
 One day, at the house of a relation in Ghent, he 
 heard a young lady, then living in Brussels, spoken of 
 in a manner which gave rise to a long discussion. Some 
 said that the beauty of Mademoiselle de Temninck was 
 destroj'ed by the imperfections of her figure ; others 
 declared that she was perfect in spite of her defects. 
 Balthazar's old cousin, at whose house the discussion 
 took place, assured his guests that, handsome or not, 
 she had a soul that would make him marry her were he 
 a marrying man ; and he told how she had lately re- 
 nounced her share of her parents' property to enable 
 her brother to make a marriage worthy of his name ; 
 thus preferring his happiness to her own, and sacrificing 
 her future to his interests, — for it was not to be sup- 
 posed that Mademoiselle de Temninck would marry late 
 
The Alkahest, 33 
 
 m life and without property when, young and wealthy, 
 she had met with no aspirant. 
 
 A few da3^s later, Balthazar Claes made the acquaint- 
 ance of Mademoiselle de Temninck ; with whom he fell 
 deeply in love. At first, Josephine de Temninck 
 thought herself the object of a mere caprice, and re- 
 fused to listen to Monsieur Claes ; but passion is con- 
 tagious ; and to a poor girl who was lame and ill-made, 
 the sense of inspiring love in a 3'oung and handsome 
 man carries with it such strong seduction that she 
 finally consented to allow him to woo her. 
 
 It would need a volume to paint the love of a young 
 girl humbly submissive to the verdict of a world that calls 
 her plain, while she feels within her the irresistible charm 
 which comes of sensibility and true feeling. It involves 
 fierce jealousy of happiness, freaks of cruel vengeance 
 against some fancied rival who wins a glance, — emo- 
 tions, terrors, unknown to the majority of women, and 
 which ought, therefore, to be more than indicated. 
 Tiie doubt, the dramatic doubt of love, is the key- 
 note of this analysis, where certain souls will find once 
 more the lost, but unforgotten, poetry of their early 
 struggles ; the passionate exaltations of the heart which 
 the face must not betray ; the fear that we may not be 
 understood, and the boundless joy of being so; the 
 hesitations of the soul which recoils upon Itself, and the 
 magnetic propulsions which give to the eyes an infini- 
 
 3 
 
34 The Alkahest. 
 
 tude of shades ; the promptings to suicide caused by a 
 word, dispelled by an intonation ; trembling glances 
 which veil an inward daring ; sudden desires to speak 
 and act that are paralj^zed by their own violence ; the 
 secret eloquence of common phrases spoken in a quiver- 
 ing voice ; the mysterious workings of that pristine 
 modest}^ of soul and that divine discernment which 
 lead to hidden generosities, and give so exquisite a 
 flavor to silent devotion ; in short, all the loveliness of 
 3'oung love, and the weaknesses of its power. 
 
 Mademoiselle Josephine de Temninck was coquettish 
 from nobility of soul. The sense of her obvious imper- 
 fections made her as difficult to win as the handsomest 
 of women. The fear of some day displeasing the ej'e 
 roused her pride, destroyed her trustfulness, and gave 
 her the courage to hide in the depths of her heart that 
 dawning happiness which other women delight in mak- 
 ing known by their manners, — wearing it proudly, like 
 a coronet. The more love urged her towards Balthazar, 
 the less she dared to express her feelings. The glance, 
 the gesture, the question and answer as it were of a 
 pretty woman, so flattering to the man she loves, would 
 they not be in her case mere humiliating speculation ? 
 A beautiful woman can be her natural self, — the world 
 overlooks her little follies or her clumsiness ; whereas 
 a single criticising glance checks the noblest expression 
 on the lips of an ugly woman, adds to the ill-grace of 
 
The Alkahest 85 
 
 her gesture, gives timidity to her ej^es and awkwardness 
 to her whole bearing. She knows too well that to her 
 alone the world condones no faults ; she is denied the 
 right to repair them ; indeed, the chance to do so is 
 never given. This necessity of being perfect and on 
 her guard at every moment, must surely chill her facul- 
 ties and numb their exercise? Such a woman can exist 
 only in an atmosphere of angelic forbearance. Where 
 are the hearts from which forbearance comes with no 
 alloy of bitter and stinging pit}'? 
 
 These thoughts, to which the codes of social life had 
 accustomed her, and the sort of consideration more 
 wounding than insult shown to her by the world, — a 
 consideration which increases a misfortune by making 
 it apparent, — oppressed Mademoiselle de Temuinck 
 with a constant sense of embarrassment, which drove 
 back into her soul its happiest expression, and chilled 
 and stiffened her attitudes, her speech, her looks. 
 Loving and beloved, she dared to be eloquent or beau- 
 tiful only when alone. Unhappy and oppressed in the 
 broad daylight of life, she might have been enchanting 
 could she have expanded in the shadow. Often, to test 
 the love thus offered to her, and at the risk of losing it, 
 she refused to wear the draperies that concealed some 
 portion of her defects, and her Spanish q^qs, grew en- 
 trancing when they saw that Balthazar thought her 
 beautiful as before. 
 
36 The Alkahest. 
 
 Nevertheless, even so, distrust spoiled the rare mo- 
 ments when she yielded herself to happiness. She 
 asked herself if Claes were not seeking a domestic 
 slave, — one who* would necessarily keep the house? 
 whether he had himself no secret imperfection which 
 obliged him to be satisfied with a poor, deformed girl? 
 Such perpetual misgivings gave a priceless value to the 
 few short hours during which she trusted the sincerity 
 and the permanence of a love which was to avenge her 
 on the world. Sometimes she provoked hazardous 
 discussions, and probed the inner consciousness of her 
 lover b}' exaggerating her defects. At such times she 
 often wrung from Balthazar truths that were far from 
 flattering ; but she loved the embarrassment into which 
 he fell when she had led him to say that what he loved 
 in a woman was a noble soul and the devotion which 
 made each day of life a constant happiness ; and that 
 after a few years of married life the handsomest of 
 women was no more to a husband than the ughest. 
 After gathering up what there was of truth in all such 
 paradoxes tending to reduce the value of beauty, Bal- 
 thazar would suddenly perceive the ungraciousness of 
 his remarks, and show the goodness of his heart by 
 the delicate transitions of thought with which he proved 
 to Mademoiselle de Temninck that she was perfect in 
 his eyes. 
 
 The spirit of devotion which, it may be, is the drown 
 
The Alkahest. 87 
 
 of love in a woman, was not lacking in this young girl, 
 who had always despaired of being loved ; at first, the 
 prospect of a struggle in which feeling and sentiment 
 would triumph over actual beauty tempted her ; then, 
 she fancied a grandeur in giving herself to a man in 
 whose love she did not believe ; finally, she was forced 
 to admit that happiness, however short its duration 
 might be, was too precious to resign. 
 
 Such hesitations, such struggles, giving the charm 
 and the unexpectedness of passion to this noble crea- 
 ture, inspired Balthazar with a love that was well-nigh 
 chivalric. 
 
38 The Alkahest. 
 
 III. 
 
 The marriage took place at the beginning of the 
 year 1795. Husband and wife came to Douai that the 
 first days of their union might be spent in the patriar- 
 chal house of the Claes, — the treasures of which were 
 increased by those of Mademoiselle de Temninck, who 
 brought with her several fine pictures of Murillo and 
 Velasquez, the diamonds of her mother, and the mag- 
 nificent wedding-gifts, made to her b}^ her brother, the 
 Duke of Casa-Real. 
 
 Few women were ever happier than Madame Claes. 
 Her happiness lasted for fifteen years without a cloud, 
 diffusing itself like a vivid light into every nook and 
 detail of her life. Most men have inequalities of 
 character which produce discord, and deprive their 
 households of the harmony which is the ideal of a 
 home ; the majority are blemished with some littleness 
 or meanness, and meanness of an}^ kind begets bicker- 
 ing. One man is honorable and diligent, but hard and 
 crabbed ; another kindl}^, but obstinate ; this one loves 
 his wife, yet his will is arbitrarj^ and uncertain ; that 
 other, preoccupied b}' ambition, pays off his affections 
 
The Alkahest 39 
 
 as he would a debt, bestows the luxuries of wealth but 
 deprives the daily life of happiness, — in short, the aver- 
 age man of social life is essentiallj^ incomplete^ without 
 being signally to blame. Men of talent are as variable 
 as barometers ; genius alone is intrinsically good. 
 
 For this reason unalloyed happiness is found at the 
 two extremes of the moral scale. The good-natured 
 fool and the man of genius alone are capable — the one 
 through weakness, the other by strength — of that 
 equanimity of temper, that unvarying gentleness, which 
 soften the asperities of daily life. In the one, it is in- 
 difference or stolidity ; in the other, indulgence and a 
 portion of the divine thought of which he is the inter- 
 preter, and which needs to be consistent alike in princi- 
 ple and application. Both natures are equally simple ; 
 but in one there is vacancy, in the other depth. This 
 is why clever women are disposed to take dull men as 
 the small change for great ones. 
 
 Balthazar Claes carried his greatness into the lesser 
 things of life. He delighted in considering conjugal 
 love as a magnificent work ; and like all men of lofty 
 aims who can bear nothing imperfect, he wished to 
 develop all its beauties. His powers of mind enlivened 
 the calm of happiness, his noble nature marked his 
 attentions with the charm of grace. Though he shared 
 the philosophical tenets of the eighteenth century, he 
 installed a chaplain in his home until 1801 (in spite of 
 
40 The Alkahest, 
 
 the risk he ran from the revolutionary decrees), so that 
 he might not thwart the Spanish fanaticism which his 
 wife had sucked in with her mother's milk : later, when 
 public worship was restored in France, he accompanied 
 her to mass everj^ Sunday. His passion never ceased 
 to be that of a lover. The protecting power, which 
 w^omen like so much, was never exercised by this hus- 
 band, lest to that wife it might seem pity. He treated 
 her with exquisite flattery as an equal, and sometimes 
 mutinied against her, as men will, as though to brave 
 the supremacy of a pretty woman. His lips wore a 
 smile of happiness, his speech was ever tender; he 
 loved his Josephine for herself and for himself, with an 
 ardor that crowned with perpetual praise the qualities 
 and the loveliness of a wife. 
 
 Fidehty, often the result of social principle, religious 
 duty, or self-interest on the part of a husband, was in 
 this case involuntarj^, and not without the sweet flat- 
 teries of the spring-time of love. Duty was the only 
 marriage obligation unknown to these lovers, whose 
 love was equal; for Balthazar Claes found the com- 
 plete and lasting realization of his hopes in Mademoi- 
 selle de Temninck ; his heart was satisfied but not 
 wearied, the man within him was ever happy. 
 
 Not only did the daughter of Casa-Real derive from 
 her Spanish blood the intuition of that science which 
 varies pleasure and makes it infinite, but she possessed 
 
The Alkahest. 41 
 
 the spirit of unbounded self-devotion, which is the 
 genius of her sex as grace is that of beauty. Her love 
 was a blind fanaticism which, at a nod, would have 
 sent her joyously to her death. Balthazar's own deli- 
 cacy had exalted the generous emotions of his wife, 
 and inspired her with an imperious need of giving more 
 than she received. This mutual exchange of happiness 
 which each lavished upon the other, put the mainspring 
 of her life visibly outside of her personality, and filled 
 her words, her looks, her actions, with an ever-growing 
 love. Gratitude fertilized and varied the life of each 
 heart; and the certainty of being all in all to one 
 another excluded the paltry things of existence, while 
 it magnified the smallest accessories. 
 
 The deformed woman whom her husband thinks 
 straight, the lame woman whom he would not have oth- 
 erwise, the old woman who seems ever young — are 
 they not the happiest creatures of the feminine world ? 
 Can human passion go beyond it? The glory of a 
 woman is to be adored for a defect. To forget that a 
 lame woman does not walk straight may be the glamour 
 of a moment, but to love her because she is lame is the 
 deification of her defects. In the gospel of woman- 
 hood it is written: "Blessed are the imperfect, for 
 theirs is the kingdom of Love." If this be so, surel}^ 
 beauty is a misfortune ; that fugitive flower counts for 
 too much in the feeling that a woman inspires ; often 
 
42 The Alkahest. 
 
 she is loved for her beauty as another is married for 
 her mone3\ But the love inspired or bestowed by a 
 woman disinherited of the frail advantages pursued by 
 the sons of Adam, is true love, the mysterious passion, 
 the ardent embrace of souls, a sentiment for which the 
 da}^ of disenchantment never comes. That woman has 
 charms unknown to the world, from whose jurisdiction 
 she withdraws herself : she is beautiful with a meaning ; 
 her glory lies in making her imperfections forgotten, 
 and thus she constantly succeeds in doing so. 
 
 The celebrated attachments of history were nearly all 
 inspired by women in whom the vulgar mind would 
 have found defects, — Cleopatra, Jeanne de Naples, 
 Diane de Poitiers, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, Madame 
 de Pompadour ; in fact, the majority of the women whom 
 love has rendered famous were not without infirmities 
 and imperfections, while the greater number of those 
 whose beauty is cited as perfect came to some tragic 
 end of love. 
 
 This apparent singularity must have a cause. It 
 may be that man lives more by sentiment than by 
 sense ; perhaps the physical charm of beaut}^ is limited, 
 while the moral charm of a woman without beauty is 
 infinite. Is not this the moral of the fable on which 
 the Arabian Nights are based? An ugly wife of 
 Henry VIII. might have defied the axe, and subdued 
 to herself the inconstancy of her master. 
 
The Alkahest, 43 
 
 B}^ a strange chance, not inexplicable, however, in a 
 girl of Spanish origin, Madame Claes was uneducated. 
 She knew how to read and write, but up to the age of 
 twent}', at which time her parents withdrew her from a 
 convent, she had read none but ascetic books. On "her 
 first entrance into the world, she was eager for pleasure 
 and learned only the flimsy art of dress ; she was, more- 
 over, so deeply conscious of her ignorance that she 
 dared not join in conversation ; for which reason she 
 was supposed to have little mind. Yet, the mj^stical 
 education of a convent had one good result ; it left her 
 feelings in full force and' her natural powers of mind 
 uninjured. Stupid and plain as an heiress in the eyes 
 of the world, she became intellectual and beautiful to 
 her husband. During the first years of their married 
 life, Balthazar endeavored to give her at least the 
 knowledge that she needed to appear to advantage in 
 good society: but he was doubtless too late, she had 
 no memory but that of the heart. Josephine never 
 forgot anj^thing that Claes told her relating to them- 
 selves ; she remembered the most trifling circumstances 
 of their happy life ; but of her evening studies nothing 
 remained to her on the morrow. 
 
 This ignorance might have caused much discord 
 between husband and wife, but Madame Claes's under- 
 standing of the passion of love was so simple and 
 ingenuous, she loved her husband so religiously, so 
 
44 The Alkahest. 
 
 sacredly, and the thought of preserving her happiness 
 made her so adroit, that she managed alwaj^s to seem 
 to understand him, and it was seldom indeed that her 
 ignorance was evident. Moreover, when two persons 
 love one another so well that each day seems for them 
 the beginning of their passion, phenomena arise out of 
 this teeming happiness which change all the conditions 
 of life. It resembles childhood, careless of all that is 
 not laughter, joy, and merriment. Then, when life is 
 in full activity, when its hearths glow, man lets the fire 
 burn without thought or discussion, without consider- 
 ing either the means or the end. 
 
 No daughter of Eve ever more truly understood the 
 calling of a wife than Madame Claes. She had all the 
 submission of a Flemish woman, but her Spanish pride 
 gave it a higher flavor. Her bearing was imposing; 
 she knew how to command respect by a look which 
 expressed her sense of birth and dignity: but she 
 trembled before Claes ; she held him so high, so near 
 to God, carrying to him ever}^ act of her life, every 
 thought of her heart, that her love was not without a 
 certain respectful fear which made it keener. She 
 proudly assumed all the habits of a Flemish bourgeoise, 
 and put her self-love into making the home life liberally 
 happy, — preserving every detail of the house in scrupu- 
 lous cleanliness, possessing nothing that did not serve 
 the purposes of true comfort, supplying her table with 
 
^Fhe Alkahest. 45 
 
 the choicest food, and putting everything within those 
 walls into harmony with the life of her heart. 
 
 The pair had two sons and two daughters. The 
 eldest, Marguerite, was born in 1796. The last child 
 was a boy, now three years old, named Jean-Balthazar. 
 The maternal sentiment in Madame Claes was almost 
 equal to her love for her husband ; and there rose in 
 her soul, especially during the last days of her life, a 
 terrible struggle between those nearly balanced feel- 
 ings, of which the one became, as it were, an enemy of 
 the other. The tears and the terror that marked her 
 face at the moment when this tale of a domestic drama 
 then lowering over the quiet house begins, were caused 
 by the fear of having sacrificed her children to her 
 husband. 
 
 In 1805, Madame Claes's brother died without chil- 
 dren. The Spanish law does not allow a sister to suc- 
 ceed to territorial possessions, which follow the title ; 
 but the duke had left her in his will about sixty thou- 
 sand ducats, and this sum the heirs of the collateral 
 branch did not seek to retain. Though the feeling 
 which united her to Balthazar Claes was such that no 
 thought of personal interest could ever sully it, Josephine 
 felt a certain pleasure in possessing a fortune equal to 
 that of her husband, and was happy in giving some- 
 thing to one who had so nobly given everj-thing to her. 
 Thus, a mere chance turned a marriage which worldly 
 
46 The Alkahest 
 
 minds had declared foolish, into an excellent alUance, 
 seen from the standpoint of material interests. The 
 use to which this sum of money should be put became, 
 however, somewhat difficult to determine. 
 
 The House of Claes was so richly supplied with fur- 
 niture, pictures, and objects of art of priceless value, 
 that it was difficult to add anything worthy of what 
 was already there. The tastes of the family through 
 long periods of time had accumulated these treasures. 
 One generation followed the quest of noble pictures, 
 leaving behind it the necessity of completing a collec- 
 tion still unfinished ; and thus the taste became he- 
 reditary in the family. The hundred pictures which 
 adorned the gallery leading from the family building to 
 the reception-rooms on the first floor of the front house, 
 as well as some fifty others placed about the salons, 
 were the product of the patient researches of three 
 centuries. Among them were choice specimens of 
 Rubens, Ruysdael, Vandyke, Terburg, Gerard Dow, 
 Teniers, Mieris, Paul Potter, Wouvermans, Rembrandt, 
 Hobbema, Cranach, and Holbein. French and Italian 
 pictures were in a minority, but all were authentic and 
 masterly. 
 
 Another generation had fancied Chinese and Japan- 
 ese porcelains: this Claes was eager after rare furni- 
 ture, that one for silver-ware ; in fact, each and all had 
 their mania, their passion, — a trait which belongs in 
 
The Alkahest. 4:7 
 
 a striking degree to the Flemish character. The father 
 of Balthazar, a last relic of the once famous Dutch 
 society, left behind him the finest known collection of 
 tulips. 
 
 Besides these hereditary riches, which represented an 
 enormous capital, and were the choice ornament of the 
 venerable house, — a house that was simple as a shell 
 outside but, like a shell, adorned within by pearls of 
 price and glowing with rich color, — Balthazar Claes 
 possessed a country-house on the plain of Orchies, not 
 far from Douai. Instead of basing his expenses, as 
 Frenchmen do, upon his revenues, he followed the old 
 Dutch custom of spending only a fourth of his income. 
 Twelve hundred ducats a year put his costs of living 
 at a level with those of the richest men of the place. 
 The promulgation of the Civil Code proved the wisdom 
 of this course. Compelling, as it did, the equal divis- 
 ion of property, the Title of Succession would some 
 day leave each child with limited means, and disperse 
 the treasures of the Claes collection. Balthazar, there- 
 fore, in concert with Madame Claes, invested his 
 wife's property so as to secure to each child a fortune 
 eventually equal to his own. The house of Claes still 
 maintained its moderate scale of living, and bought 
 woodlands somewhat the worse for the wars that had 
 laid waste the country, but which in ten years* time, if 
 well-preserved, would return an enormous value. 
 
48 The Alkahest. 
 
 The upper ranks of society in Douai, which Mon- 
 sieur Claes frequented, appreciated so justly the noble 
 character and qualities of his wife that, by tacit con- 
 sent she was released from those social duties to which 
 the provinces cling so tenaciously. During the winter 
 season, when she lived in town, she seldom went into 
 society ; society came to her. She received ever}^ 
 Wednesday, and gave three grand dinners every 
 month. Her friends felt that she was more at ease in 
 her own house ; where, indeed, her passion for her 
 husband and the care she bestowed on the education 
 of her children tended to keep her. 
 
 Such had been, up to the year 1809, the general 
 course of this household, which had nothing in common 
 with the ordinary run of conventional ideas, though 
 the outward life of these two persons, secretl^^ full of 
 love and joy, was like that of other people. Balthazar 
 Claes's passion for his wife, which she had known how 
 to perpetuate, seemed, to use his own expression, to 
 spend its inborn vigor and fidelity on the cultivation of 
 happiness, which was far better than the cultivation of 
 tulips (though to that he had always had a leaning), 
 and dispensed him from the duty of following a mania 
 like his ancestors. 
 
 At the close of this year, the mind and the man- 
 ners of Balthazar Claes underwent a fatal change, — a 
 change which began so gradually that at first Madame 
 
The Alkahest, 49 
 
 Claes did not think it necessary to inquire the cause. 
 One night her husband went to bed with a mind so 
 preoccupied that she felt it incumbent on her to respect 
 his mood. Her womanlj^ delicacy and her submissive 
 habits alwa3's led her to wait for Balthazar's confi- 
 dence ; which, indeed, was assured to her by so 
 constant an affection that she had never had the 
 shghtest opening for jealousy. Though certain of ob- 
 taining an answer whenever she should make the 
 inquiry, she still retained enough of the earlier impres- 
 sions of her life to dread a refusal. Besides, the moral 
 malady of her husband had its phases, and only came 
 by slow degrees to the intolerable point at which it 
 destroyed the happiness of the family. 
 
 However occupied Balthazar Claes might be, he 
 continued for several months cheerful, affectionate, 
 and ready to talk ; the change in his character showed 
 itself only by frequent periods of absent-mindedness. 
 Madame Claes long hoped to hear from her husband 
 himself the nature of the secret employment in which 
 he was engaged ; perhaps, she thought, he would reveal 
 it when it developed some useful result ; many men are 
 led by pride to conceal the nature of their efforts, and 
 only make them known at the moment of success. 
 When the day of triumph came, surely domestic happi- 
 ness would return, more vivid than ever when Balthazar 
 became aware of this chasm in the life of love, which 
 
 4 
 
60 The Alkahest 
 
 his heart would surely disavow. Josephine knew her 
 husband well enough to be certain that he would never 
 forgive himself for having made his Pepita less than 
 happ3^ during several months. 
 
 She kept silence therefore, and felt a sort of joj^ in 
 thus suffering by him for him : her passion had a tinge 
 of that Spanish piety which allows no separation be- 
 tween religion and love, and believes in no sentiment 
 without suffering. She waited for the return of her hus- 
 band'^ affection, sa3'ing daily to herself, "To-morrow 
 it may come," — treating her happiness as though it 
 were an absent friend. 
 
 During this stage of her secret distress, she conceived 
 her last child. Horrible crisis, which revealed a future 
 of anguish! In the midst of her husband's abstrac- 
 tions love showed itself on this occasion an abstraction 
 even greater than the rest. Her woman's pride, hurt 
 for the first time, made her sound the depths of the 
 unknown abyss which separated her from the Claes of 
 earlier days. From that time Balthazar's condition 
 grew rapidly worse. The man formerly so wrapped up 
 in his domestic happiness, who played for hours with 
 his children on the parlor carpet or round the garden 
 paths, who seemed able to exist only in the light of his 
 Pepita's dark eyes, did not even perceive her pregnancy, 
 seldom shared the family life, and even forgot his 
 own. 
 
The Alkahest. 51 
 
 The longer Madame Claes postponed inquiring into 
 the cause of his preoccupation the less she dared to do 
 so. At the very idea, her blood ran cold and her voice 
 grew faint. At last the thought occurred to her that 
 she had ceased to please her husband, and then indeed 
 she was seriously alarmed. That fear now filled her 
 mind, drove her to despair, then to feverish excitement, 
 and became the text of many an hour of melancholy 
 re very. She defended Balthazar at her own expense, 
 calling herself old and ugly ; then she imagined a gen- 
 erous though humiliating consideration for her in this 
 secret occupation by which he secured to her a negative 
 fidelity ; and she resolved to give him back his indepen- 
 dence by allowing one of those unspoken divorces 
 which make the happiness of many a marriage. 
 
 Before bidding farewell to conjugal life, Madame 
 Claes made some attempt to read her husband's heart, 
 and found it closed. Little by little, she saw him 
 become indifferent to all that he had formerly loved ; 
 he neglected his tulips, he cared no longer for his 
 children. There could be no doubt that he was given 
 over to some passion that was not of the heart, but 
 which, to a woman's mind, is not less withering. His 
 love was dormant, not lost : this might be a consola- 
 tion, but the misfortune remained the same. 
 
 The continuance of such a state of things is ex- 
 plained by one word, — hope, the secret of all con- 
 
62 The Alkahest. 
 
 jngal situations. It so happened that whenever the 
 poor woman reached a depth of despair which gave her 
 courage to question her husband, she met with a few 
 brief moments of happiness when she was able to feel 
 that if Balthazar were indeed in the clutch of some 
 devilish power, he was permitted, sometimes at least, to 
 return to himself. At such moments, when her heaven 
 brightened,' she was too eager to enjoy its happiness to 
 trouble him with importunate questions : later, when 
 she endeavored to speak to him, he would suddenly 
 escape, leave her abruptly, or drop into the gulf of 
 meditation from which no word of hers could drag 
 him. 
 
 Before long the reaction of the moral upon the phys- 
 ical condition began its ravages, — at first imperceptibly, 
 except to the eyes of a loving woman following the se- 
 cret thought of a husband through all its manifesta- 
 tions. Often she could scarcely restrain her tears when 
 she saw him, after dinner, sink into an armchair by the 
 corner of the fireplace, and remain there, gloomy and 
 abstracted. She noted with terror the slow changes 
 which deteriorated that face, once, to her eyes, sublime 
 through love : the life of the soul was retreating from 
 it; the structure remained, but the spirit was gone. 
 Sometimes the eyes were glassy, and seemed as if they 
 had turned their gaze and were looking inward. When 
 the children had gone to bed, and the silence and solitude 
 
The Alkahest. 63 
 
 oppressed her, Pepita would say, '* My friend, are you 
 ill ? " and Balthazar would make no answer ; or if he 
 answered, he would come to himself with a quiver, Hke 
 a man snatched suddenly from sleep, and utter a " No " 
 so harsh and grating that it fell like a stone on the 
 palpitating heart of his wife. 
 
 Though she tried to hide this strange state of things 
 from her friends, Madame Claes was obliged sometimes 
 to allude to it. The social world of Douai, in accord- 
 ance with the custom of provincial towns, had made 
 Balthazar's aberrations a topic of conversation, and 
 many persons were aware of certain details that were 
 still unknown to Madame Claes. Disregarding the ret- 
 icence which politeness demanded, a few friends ex- 
 pressed to her so much anxiety on the subject that 
 she found herself compelled to defend her husband's 
 peculiarities. 
 
 '' Monsieur Claes," she said, " has undertaken a 
 work which wholl^^ absorbs him ; its success will even- 
 tually redound not only to the honor of the family but 
 to that of his country." 
 
 This mysterious explanation was too flattering to the 
 ambition of a town whose local patriotism and desire 
 for glory exceed those of other places, not to be readily 
 accepted, and it produced on all minds a reaction in 
 favor of Balthazar. 
 
 The supposition of his wife was, to a certain extent, 
 
64 The Alkahest, 
 
 well-founded. Several artificers of various trades had 
 long been at work in the garret of the front house, 
 where Balthazar went early every morning. After 
 remaining, at first, for several hours, an absence to 
 which his wife and household grew gradually accus- 
 tomed, he ended by being there all day. But — unex- 
 pected shock ! — Madame Claes learned through the 
 humiliating medium of some women friends, who 
 showed surprise at her ignorance, that her husband 
 constantly imported instruments of physical science, 
 valuable materials, books, machinery, etc., from Paris, 
 and was on the highroad to ruin in search of the Phi- 
 losophers' Stone. She ought, so her kind friends ad- 
 ded, to think of her children, and her own future ; it 
 was criminal not to use her influence to draw Monsieur 
 Claes from the fatal path on which he had entered. 
 
 Though Madame Claes, with the tone and manner of 
 a great lady, silenced these absurd speeches, she was 
 inwardly terrified in spite of her apparent confidence, 
 and she resolved to break through her present system 
 of silence and resignation. She brought about one of 
 those little scenes in which husband and wife are on an 
 equal footing ; less timid at such a moment, she dared 
 to ask Balthazar the reason for his change, the mo- 
 tive of his constant seclusion. The Flemish husband 
 frowned, and replied : — 
 
 '' My dear, you could not understand it." 
 
The Alkahest, 55 
 
 Soon after, however, Josephine insisted on being told 
 the secret, gently complaining that she was not allowed 
 to share all the thoughts of one whose life she shared. 
 
 "Very well, since it interests you so much," said 
 Balthazar, taking his wife upon his knee and caressing 
 her black hair, "I will tell you that I have returned 
 to the study of chemistry, and I am the happiest man 
 on earth." 
 
5Q The Alkahest. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Two years after the winter when Monsieur Claes 
 returned to chemistry, the aspect of his house was 
 changed. Whether it were that society was affronted by 
 his perpetual absent-mindedness and chose to think it- 
 self in the way, or that Madame Claes's secret anxieties 
 made her less agreeable than before, certain it is that 
 she no longer saw any but her intimate friends. Bal- 
 thazar went nowhere, shut himself up in his laboratory 
 all daj^, sometimes stayed there all night, and only ap- 
 peared in the bosom of his family at dinner-time. 
 
 After the second year he no longer passed the sum- 
 mer at his country-house, and his wife was unwilling 
 to live there alone. Sometimes he went to walk and 
 did not return till the following day, leaving Madame 
 Claes a prey to mortal anxiety during the night. 
 After causing a fruitless search for him through the 
 town, whose gates, like those of other fortified places, 
 were closed at night, it was impossible to send into the 
 country, and the unhappy woman could only wait and 
 suffer till morning. Balthazar, who had forgotten the 
 hour at which the gates closed, would come tranquilly 
 
The Alkahest. 57 
 
 home the next day, quite unmindful of the tortures his 
 absence had inflicted on his family ; and the happiness 
 of getting him back proved as dangerous an excitement 
 of feeling to his wife as her fears of the preceding 
 night. She kept silence and dared not question him, 
 for when she did so on the occasion of his first absence, 
 he answered with an air of surprise : — 
 
 *' Well, what of it ? Can I not take a walk ? " 
 
 Passions never deceive. Madame Claes's anxieties 
 corroborated the rumors she had taken so much pains 
 to deny. The experience of her yonth. had taught her 
 to understand the polite pity of the world. Resolved 
 not to undergo it a second time, she withdrew more 
 and more into the privacy of her own house, now de- 
 serted by society and even by her nearest friends. 
 
 Among these many causes of distress, the negligence 
 and disorder of Balthazar's dress, so degrading to a man 
 of his station, was not the least bitter to a woman ac- 
 customed to the exquisite nicety of Flemish life. At 
 first Josephine endeavored, in concert with Balthazar's 
 valet, Lemulquinier, to repair the daily devastation of 
 his clothing, but even that she was soon forced to give 
 up. The ver}^ day when Balthazar, unaware of the sub- 
 stitution, put on new clothes in place of those that were 
 stained, torn, or full of holes, he made rags of them. 
 
 The poor wife, whose perfect happiness had lasted 
 fifteen 3^ears, during which time her jealousy had never 
 
68 The Alkahest 
 
 once been roused, was apparently and suddenly nothing 
 in the heart where she had lately reigned. Spanish by 
 race, the feelings of a Spanish woman rose within her 
 when she discovered her rival in a Science that allured 
 her husband from her: torments of jealousy prej^ed 
 upon her heart and renewed her love. What could she 
 do against Science? Should she combat that tjTan- 
 nous, unyielding, growing power? Could she kill an 
 invisible rival? Could a woman, limited by nature, 
 contend with an Idea whose delights are infinite, whose 
 attractions are ever new ? How make head against the 
 fascination of ideas that spring the fresher and the 
 lovelier out of difficulty, and entice a man so far from 
 this world that he forgets even his dearest loves ? 
 
 At last one day, in spite of Balthazar's strict orders, 
 Madame Claes resolved to follow him, to shut herself 
 up in the garret where his life was spent, and struggle 
 hand to hand against her rival by sharing her hus- 
 band's labors during the long hours he gave to that 
 terrible mistress. She determined to slip secretly into 
 the mysterious laboratory of seduction, and obtain the 
 right to l)e there always. Lemulquinier alone had that 
 right, and she meant to share it with him ; but to pre- 
 vent his witnessing the contention with her husband 
 which she feared at the outset, she waited for an oppor- 
 tunity when the valet should be out of the way. For a 
 while she studied the goings and comings of the man 
 
The Alkahest, 59 
 
 with angry impatience ; did he not know that which was 
 denied to her — all that her husband hid from her, all 
 that she dared not inquire into ? Even a servant was 
 preferred to a wife ! 
 
 The day came ; she approached the place, trembling, 
 yet almost happy. For the first time in her life she 
 encountered Balthazar's anger. She had hardly opened 
 the door before he sprang upon her, seized her, threw 
 her roughly on the staircase, so that she narrowly 
 escaped rolling to the bottom. 
 
 "God be praised! you are still alive!" he cried, 
 raising her. 
 
 A glass vessel had broken into fragments over Ma- 
 dame Claes, who saw her husband standing hy her, pale, 
 terrified, and almost livid. 
 
 '* My dear, I forbade yow. to come here," he said, sit- 
 ting down on the stairs, as though prostrated. " The 
 saints have saved 3'our life ! By what chance was it 
 that my eyes were on the door when you opened it? 
 We have just escaped death." 
 
 " Then I might have been happy ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " My experiment has failed," continued Balthazar. 
 " You alone could I forgive for that terrible disappoint- 
 ment. I was about to decompose nitrogen. Go back 
 to your own afl'airs." 
 
 Balthazar re-entered the laboratory and closed the 
 door. 
 
60 The Alkahest. 
 
 "Decompose nitrogen!" said the poor woman as 
 she re-entered her chamber, and burst into tears. 
 
 The phrase was unintelligible to her. Men, trained 
 b}^ education to have a general conception of everj'thing, 
 have no idea how distressing it is for a woman to be 
 unable to comprehend the thought of the man she loves. 
 More forbearing than we, these divine creatures do not 
 let us know when the language of their souls is not 
 understood by us ; they shrink from letting us feel the 
 superiority of their feelings, and hide their pain as 
 gladly as they silence their wishes : but, having higher 
 ambitions in love than men, they desire to wed not only 
 the heart of a husband, but his mind. 
 
 To Madame Claes the sense of knowing nothing of a 
 science which absorbed her husband filled her with a 
 vexation as keen as the beaut}^ of a rival might have 
 caused. The struggle of woman against woman gives 
 to her who loves the most the advantage of loving 
 best ; but a mortification like this only proved Madame 
 Claes's powerlessness and humiliated the feelings by 
 which she lived. She was ignorant; and she had 
 reached a point where her ignorance parted her from 
 her husband. Worse than all, last and keenest torture, 
 he was risking his life, he was often in danger — near 
 her, yet far away, and she might not share, nor even 
 know, his peril. Her position became, like hell, a 
 moral prison from which there was no issue, in which 
 
The AlkahesL 61 
 
 there was no hope. Madame Claes resolved to know 
 at least the outward attractions of this fatal science, 
 and she began secretly to stud}^ chemistry in the 
 books. From this time the family became, as it were, 
 cloisteried. 
 
 Such were the successive changes brought bj^ this 
 dire misfortune upon the family of Claes, before it 
 reached the species of atrophy in which we find it at 
 the moment when this history begins. 
 
 The situation grew dail}' more complicated. Like all 
 passionate women, Madame Claes was disinterested. 
 Those who truly love know that considerations of 
 money count for little in matters of feeling and are 
 reluctantly associated with them. Nevertheless, Jose- 
 phine did not hear without distress that her husband 
 had borrowed three hundred thousand francs upon his 
 property. The apparent authenticity of the transac- 
 tion, the rumors and conjectures spread through the 
 town, forced Madame Claes, naturally much alarmed, 
 to question her husband's notary and, disregarding 
 her pride, to reveal to him her secret anxieties or let 
 him guess them, and even ask her the humiliating 
 question, — 
 
 " How is it that Monsieur Claes has not told 3'ou of 
 this?" 
 
 Happilj', the notar}^ was almost a relation, — in this 
 ■wise : The grandfather of Monsieur Claes had married 
 
62 The Alkahest 
 
 a Pierquin of Antwerp, of the same family as the 
 Pierquins of Douai. Since the marriage the latter, 
 though strangers to the Claes, claimed them as cousins. 
 Monsieur Pierquin, a young man twenty-six years of 
 age, who had just succeeded to his father's practice, 
 was the only person who now had access to the House 
 of Claes. 
 
 Madame Balthazar had lived for several months in 
 such complete solitude that the notary was obliged not 
 only to confirm the rumor of the disasters, but to give 
 her further particulars, which were now well known 
 throughout the town. He told her it was probable that 
 her husband owed considerable sums of money to the 
 house which furnished him with chemicals. That house, 
 after making inquiries as to the fortune and credit of 
 Monsieur Claes, accepted all his orders and sent the 
 supplies without hesitation, notwithstanding the heavy 
 sums of money which became due. Madame Claes re- 
 quested Pierquin to obtain the bill for all the chemicals 
 that had been furnished to her husband. 
 
 Two months later. Messieurs Protez and Chiffreville, 
 manufacturers of chemical products, sent in a schedule 
 of accounts rendered, which amounted to over one hun- 
 dred thousand francs. Madame Claes and Pierquin 
 studied the document with an ever-increasing surprise. 
 Though some articles, entered in commercial and sci- 
 entific terms, were unintelligible to them, they were 
 
The Alkahest 63 
 
 frightened to see entries of precious metals and dia- 
 monds of all kinds, though in small quantities. The large 
 sum total of the debt was explained b}^ the multiplicity 
 of articles, by the precautions needed in transport- 
 ing some of them, more especiall}^ valuable machinery, 
 by the exorbitant price of certain rare chemicals, and 
 finally by the cost of instruments made to order after 
 the designs of Monsieur Claes himself. 
 
 The notary had made Inquiries, in his client's inter- 
 est, as to Messieurs Protez and Chiffreville, and found 
 that their known integrity was sufficient guarantee as 
 to the honesty of their operations with Monsieur Claes, 
 to whom, moreover, the}" frequentl}^ sent information of 
 results obtained by chemists in Paris, for the purpose 
 of sparing him expense. Madame Claes begged the 
 notary to keep the nature of these purchases from the 
 knowledge of the people of Douai, lest they should de- 
 clare the whole thing a mania ; but Pierquin replied 
 that he had already delayed to the \evy last moment 
 the notarial deeds which the importance of the sum 
 borrowed necessitated, in order not to lessen the re- 
 spect in which Monsieur Claes was held. He then 
 revealed the full extent of the evil, telling her plainly 
 that if she could not find means to prevent her hus- 
 band from thus madly making way with his property, in 
 six months the patrimonial fortune of the Claes would 
 be mortgaged to its fuU value. As for himself, he said, 
 
64 The Alkahest, 
 
 the remonstrances he had already made to his cousin, 
 with all the consideration due to a man so justly re- 
 spected, had been wholly unavailing. Balthazar had 
 replied, once for all, that he was working for the fame 
 and the fortune of his family. 
 
 Thus, to the tortures of the heart which Madame 
 Claes had borne for two years — one following the other 
 with cumulative suffering — was now added a dreadful 
 and ceaseless fear which made the future terrifying. 
 Women have presentiments whose accuracy is often mar- 
 vellous. Why do they fear so much more than the}' hope 
 in matters that concern the interests of this life ? Why 
 is their faith given onlj' to religious ideas of a future ex- 
 istence ? Why do they so ably foresee the catastrophes 
 of fortune and the crises of fate ? Perhaps the sentiment 
 which unites them to the men they love gives them a 
 sense by which they weigh force, measure faculties, 
 understand tastes, passions, vices, virtues. The per- 
 petual study of these causes in the midst of which they 
 live gives them, no doubt, the fatal power of foreseeing 
 effects in all possible relations of earthly life. What they 
 see of the present enables them to judge of the future 
 with an intuitive ability explained by the perfection of 
 their nervous S3'stem, which allows them to seize the 
 lightest indications of thought and feeling. Their whole 
 being vibrates in communion with great moral convul- 
 sions. Either they feel, or they see. 
 
The Alkahest. 65 
 
 Now, although separated from her husband for over 
 two 3'ears, Madame Claes foresaw the loss of their prop- 
 erty. She full}^ understood the deliberate ardor, the well- 
 considered, inalterable steadfastness of Balthazar; if it 
 were indeed true that he was seeking to make gold, he 
 was capable of throwing his last crust into the crucible 
 with absolute indifference. But what was he really seek- 
 ing? Up to this time maternal feeling and conjugal 
 love had been so mingled in the heart of this woman 
 that the children, equally beloved by husband and wife, 
 had never come between them. Suddenly she found 
 herself at times more mother than wife, though hitherto 
 she had been more wife than mother. However ready 
 she had been to sacrifice her fortune and even her chil- 
 dren to the man who had chosen her, loved her, adored 
 her, and to whom she was still the only woman in the 
 world, the remorse she felt for the weakness of her ma- 
 ternal love threw her into terrible alternations of feel- 
 ing. As a wife, she suffered in heart; as a mother, 
 through her children ; as a Christian, for all. 
 
 She kept silence, and hid the cruel struggle in her 
 soul. Her husband, sole arbiter of the family fate, was 
 the master by whose will it must be guided ; he was re- 
 sponsible to God only. Besides, could she reproach 
 him for the use he now made of his fortune, after the 
 disinterestedness he had shown to her for many happy 
 years? Was she to judge his purposes? And yet her 
 
66 The Alkahest 
 
 conscience, in keeping with the spirit of the law, told 
 her that parents were the depositaries and guardians of 
 property, and possessed no right to alienate the material 
 welfare of the children. To escape repl3'ing to such 
 stern questions she preferred to shut her eyes, like one 
 who refuses to see the abyss into whose depths he 
 knows he is about to fall. 
 
 For more than six months her husband had given her 
 no money for the household expenses. She sold secret- 
 ly, in Paris, the handsome diamond ornaments her 
 brother had given her on her marriage, and placed 
 the family on a footing of the strictest economj'. She 
 sent away the governess of her children, and even the 
 nurse of little Jean. Formerly the luxury of carriages 
 and horses was unknown among the burgher famiUes, 
 so simple were thej^ in their habits, so proud in their 
 feelings ; no provision for that modern innovation had 
 therefore been made at the House of Claes, and Bal- 
 thazar was obliged to have his stable and coachhouse 
 in a building opposite to his own house : his present 
 occupations allowed him no time to superintend that 
 portion of his establishment, which belongs exclusively 
 to men. Madame Claes suppressed the whole expense 
 of equipages and servants, which her present isolation 
 from the world rendered unnecessar}^, and she did so 
 without pretending to conceal the retrenchment under 
 any pretext. So far, facts had contradicted her 
 
The Alkahest, v 67 
 
 assertions, and silence for the future was more becom- 
 ing: indeed the change in the family mode of living 
 called for no explanation in a countrj^ where, as in 
 Flanders, any one who lives up to his income is con- 
 sidered a madman. 
 
 And yet, as her "eldest daughter. Marguerite, ap- 
 proached her sixteenth birthday, Madame Claes longed 
 to procure for her a good marriage, and to place her in 
 society in a manner suitable to a daughter of the Moli- 
 nas, the Van Ostrom-Temnincks, and the Casa-Reals. 
 A few da3's before the one on which this story opens, 
 the money derived from the sale of the diamonds had 
 been exhausted. On the very day, at three o'clock in 
 the afternoon, as Madame Claes was taking her children 
 to vespers, she met Pierquin, who was on his way to 
 see her, and who turned and accompanied her to the 
 church, talking in a low voice of her situation. 
 
 *'My dear cousin," he said, "unless I fail in the 
 friendship which binds me to your family, I cannot con- 
 ceal from you the peril of your position, or refrain from 
 begging you to speak to your husband. Who but you 
 can hold him back from the gulf into which he is 
 plunging? The rents from the mortgaged estates are 
 not enough to pay the interest on the sums he has bor- 
 rowed. If he cuts the wood on them he destroys your 
 last chance of safety in the future. My cousin Baltha- 
 zar owes at this moment thirty thousand francs to the 
 
68 Tlie Alkahest. 
 
 house of Protez and Chiffreville. How can 3'ou pay 
 them? What will j^ou live on? If Claes persists in 
 sending for reagents, retorts, voltaic batteries, and 
 other such playthings, what will become of you ? Your 
 whole property, except the house and furniture, has been 
 dissipated in gas and carbon ; yesterday he talked of 
 mortgaging the house, and in answer to a remark of 
 mine, he cried out, ' The devil ! ' It was the first sign 
 of reason I have known him show for three years." 
 
 Madame Claes pressed the notary's arm, and said in 
 a tone of suffering, '' Keep it secret." 
 
 Overwhelmed by these plain words of startling clear- 
 ness, the poor woman, pious as she was, could not 
 pray ; she sat still on her chair between her children, 
 with her prayer-book open, but not turning its leaves ; 
 her mind was sunk in meditations as absorbing as those 
 of her husband. The Spanish sense of honor, the 
 Flemish integritj^, resounded in her soul with a peal 
 louder than any organ. The ruin of her children was 
 accomplished ! Between them and their father's honor 
 she must no longer hesitate. The necessity of a com- 
 ing struggle with her husband terrified her ; in her eyes 
 he was so great, so majestic, that the mere prospect of 
 his anger made her tremble as at a vision of the divine 
 wrath. She must now depart from the submission she 
 had sacredly practised as a wife. The interests of her 
 children compelled her to oppose, in his most cherished 
 
The Alkahest. 69 
 
 tastes, the man she idolized. Must she not dailj' force 
 him back to common matters from the higher realms of 
 Science ; drag him forcibl3' from a smiling future and 
 plunge him into a materialism hideous to artists and 
 great men? To her, Balthazar Claes was a Titan of 
 science, a man big with glory ; he oould only have for- 
 gotten her for the riches of a mighty hope. Then too, 
 was he not profoundly wise? she had heard him talk 
 with such good sense on every subject that he must be 
 sincere when he declared he worked for the glory and 
 prosperity of his family. His love for his wife and 
 family was not only vast, it was infinite. That feeling 
 could not be extinct ; it was magnified, and reproduced 
 in another form. 
 
 Noble, generous, timid as she was, she prepared her- 
 self to ring into the ears of this noble man the word and 
 the sound of money, to show him the sores of poverty, 
 and force him to hear cries of distress when he was 
 listening only for the melodious voice of Fame. Per- 
 haps his love for her would lessen ! If she had had no 
 children, she would bravely and joyously have welcomed 
 the new destiny her husband was making for her. 
 Women who are brought up in opulence are quick to 
 feel the emptiness of material enjoyments ; and when 
 their hearts, more wearied than withered, have once 
 learned the happiness of a constant interchange of real 
 feelings, they feel no shrinking from reduced outward 
 
70 The Alkahest. 
 
 circumstances, provided they are still acceptable to the 
 man who has loved them. Their wishes, their pleasures, 
 are subordinated to the caprices of that other life out- 
 side of their own ; to them the only dreadful future is 
 to lose him. 
 
 At this moment, therefore, her children came between 
 Pepita and her true life, just as Science had come be- 
 tween herself and Balthazar. And thus, when she 
 reached home after vespers, and threw herself into the 
 deep armchair before the window of the parlor, she sent 
 away her children, directing them to keep perfectly 
 quiet, and despatched a message to her husband, 
 through Lemulquinier, saying that she wished to see 
 him. But although the old valet did his best to make his 
 master leave the laboratory, Balthazar scarcelj^ heeded 
 him. Madame Claes thus gained time for reflection. 
 She sat thinking, paying no attention to the hour nor 
 the light. The thought of owing thirt}^ thousand francs 
 that could not be paid renewed her past anguish and 
 joined it to that of the present and the future. This 
 influx of painful interests, ideas, and feelings overcame 
 her, and she wept. • 
 
 As Balthazar entered at last through the panelled 
 door, the expression of his face seemed to her more 
 dreadful, more absorbed, more distracted than she had 
 yet seen it. When he made her no answer she was 
 magnetized for a moment by the fixity of that blank 
 
The Alkahest 71 
 
 look emptied of all expression, by the consuming ideas 
 that issued as if distilled from that bald brow. Under 
 the shock of this impression she wished to die. But 
 when she heard the callous voice, uttering a scientific 
 wish at the moment when her heart was breaking, her 
 courage came back to her ; she resolved to struggle 
 with that awful power which had torn a lover from her 
 arms, a father from her children, a fortune from their 
 home, happiness from all. And 3'et she could not re- 
 press a trepidation which made her quiver ; in all her 
 life no such solemn scene as this had taken place. This 
 dreadful moment — did it not virtually contain her 
 future, and gather within it all the past? 
 
 Weak and timid persons, or those whose e^^cessive 
 sensibilit}^ magnifies the smallest diflSculties of life, 
 men who tremble involuntarily before the masters of 
 their fate, can now, one and all, conceive the rush of 
 thoughts that crowded into the brain of this woman, 
 and the feelings under the weight of which her heart 
 was crushed as her husband slowly crossed the room 
 towards the garden-door. Most women know that 
 agony of inward deliberation in which Madame Claes 
 was writhing. Even one whose heart has been tried 
 by nothing worse than the declaration to a husband of 
 some extravagance, or a debt to a dress-maker, will 
 understand how its pulses swell and quicken when the 
 matter is one of life itself. 
 
72 The Alkahest, 
 
 A beautiful or graceful woman might have thrown her- 
 self at her husband's feet, might have called to her aid 
 the attitudes of grief; but to Madame Claes the sense 
 of phj^sical defects only added to her fears. When she 
 saw Balthazar about to leave the room, her impulse 
 was to spring towards him ; then a cruel thought re- 
 strained her — she should stand before him ! would 
 she not seem ridiculous in the eyes of a man no longer 
 under the glamour of love — who might see true ? 
 She resolved to avoid all dangerous chances at so 
 solemn a moment, and remained seated, saying in a 
 clear voice, 
 
 " Balthazar." 
 
 He turned mechanically and coughed ; then, paj'ing 
 no attention to his wife, he walked to one of the little 
 square boxes that are placed at intei-vals along the 
 wainscoting of every room in Holland and Belgium, 
 and spat in it. This man, who took no thought of 
 other persons, never forgot the inveterate habit of using 
 those boxes. To poor Josephine, unable to find a rea- 
 son for this singularity, the constant care which her 
 husband took of the furniture caused her at all times 
 an unspeakable pang, but at this moment the pain was 
 so violent that it put her beside herself and made her 
 exclaim in a tone of impatience, which expressed her 
 wounded feelings, — 
 
 " Monsieur, I am speaking to you ! " 
 
The AlJcahest 73 
 
 " What does that mean? " answered Balthazar, turn- 
 ing quickly, and casting a look of reviving intelligence 
 upon his wife, which fell upon her like a thunderbolt. 
 
 " Forgive me, my friend," she said, turning pale. 
 She tried to rise and put out her hand to him, but her 
 strength gave way and she fell back. '' I am dying ! " 
 she cried in a voice choked by sobs. 
 
 At the sight Balthazar had, like all abstracted per- 
 sons, a vivid reaction of mind ; and he divined, so to 
 speak, the secret cause of this attack. Taking Madame 
 Claes at once in his arms, he opened the door upon the 
 little antechamber, and ran so rapidl}' up the ancient 
 wooden staircase that his wife's dress having caught on 
 the jaws of one of the griffins that supported the balus- 
 trade, a whole breadth was torn off with a loud noise. 
 He kicked in the door of the vestibule between their 
 chambers, but the door of Josephine's bedroom was 
 locked. 
 
 He gently placed her on a chair, saying to himself, 
 " My God ! the key, where is the key ? " 
 
 " Thank you, dear friend," said Madame Claes, 
 opening her eyes. " This is the first time for a long, 
 long while that I have been so near your heart." 
 
 *' Good God ! " cried Claes, " the key ! — here come 
 the servants." 
 
 Josephine signed to him to take a key that hung 
 from a ribbon at her waist. After opening the door. 
 
74 The Alkahest. 
 
 Balthazar laid his wife on a sofa, and left the room to 
 stop the frightened servants from coming up by giving 
 them orders to serve the dinner ; he then went back to 
 Madame Claes. 
 
 "What is it, my dear life?" he said, sitting down 
 beside her, and taking her hand and kissing it. 
 
 "Nothing — now," she answered. "I suffer no 
 longer. Only, I would I had the power of God to pour 
 all the gold of the world at thy feet." 
 
 "Why gold?" he asked. He took her in his arms, 
 pressed her to him and kissed her once more upon the 
 forehead. " Do you not give me the greatest of all 
 riches in loving me as you do love me, my dear and 
 precious wife?" 
 
 " Oh ! ni}^ Balthazar, will you not drive away the 
 anguish of our lives as your voice now drives out the 
 misery of m}' heart? At last, at last, I see that you 
 are still the same." 
 
 " What anguish do j'ou speak of, dear?" 
 
 " My friend, we are ruined." 
 
 "Ruined!" he repeated. Then, with a smile, he 
 stroked her hand, holding it within his own, and said 
 in his tender voice, so long unheard: "To-morrow, 
 dear love, our wealth may perhaps be limitless. Yester- 
 day, in searching for a far more important secret, I 
 think I found the means of crj^stallizing carbon, the sub- 
 stance of the diamond. Oh, my dear wife ! in a few 
 
Tlie Alkahest, 75 
 
 daj's' time you will forgive me all my forgetfulness — I 
 am forgetful sometimes, am I not? "Was I not harsh to 
 3' ou just now ? Be indulgent for a man who never ceases 
 to think of j^ou, whose toils are full of you — of us." 
 
 '' Enough, enough ! " she said, *' let us talk of it all 
 to-night, dear friend. I suffered from too much grief, 
 and now I suffer from too much joy." 
 
 *' To-night," he resumed; "yes, willingly: we will 
 talk of it. If I fall into meditation, remind me of this 
 jDromise. To-night I desire to leave my work, my re- 
 searches, and return to family joys, to the delights of 
 the heart — Pepita, I need them, I thirst for them I " 
 
 " You will tell me what it is you seek, Balthazar? " 
 
 " Poor child, you cannot understand it." 
 
 " You think so? Ah ! my friend, listen ; for nearly 
 four months I have studied chemistry that I might talk 
 of it with you. I have read Fourcroy, Lavoisier, Chap- 
 tal, NoUet, Rouelle, BerthoUet, Gay-Lussac, Spallan- 
 zani, Leuwenhoek, Galvani, Volta, — in fact, all the 
 books about the science you worship. You can tell me 
 your secrets, I shall understand 3'ou." 
 
 "Oh! you are indeed an angel," cried Balthazar, 
 falling at her feet, and shedding tears of tender feeling 
 that made her quiver. " Yes, we will understand each 
 other in all things." 
 
 " Ah ! " she cried, " I would throw myself into those 
 helUsh fires which heat your furnaces to hear these 
 
76 The Alkahest, 
 
 words from your lips and to see you thus." Then, 
 hearing her daughter's step in the anteroom, she sprang 
 quickly forward. " What is it, Marguerite ? " she said 
 to her eldest daughter. 
 
 " My dear mother, Monsieur Pierquin has just come. 
 If he stays to dinner we need some table-linen ; you 
 forgot to give it out this morning." 
 
 Madame Claes drew from her pocket a bunch of small 
 keys and gave them to the young girl, pointing to the ma- 
 hogany closets which lined the ante-chamber as she said : 
 
 " My daughter, take a set of the Graindorge linen ; 
 it is on your right." 
 
 ** Since my dear Balthazar comes back to me, let the 
 return be complete," she said, re-entering her chamber 
 with a soft and arch expression upon her face. *' My 
 friend, go into your own room ; do me the kindness to 
 dress for dinner, Pierquin will be with us. Come, take 
 off this ragged clothing ; see those stains ! Is it muri- 
 atic or sulphuric acid which left these j-ellow edges to 
 the holes? Make yourself young again, — I will send 
 you Mulquinier as soon as I have changed my dress." 
 
 Balthazar attempted to pass through the door of 
 communication, forgetting that it was locked on his 
 side. He went out through the anteroom. 
 
 "Marguerite, put the Hnen on a chair, and come 
 and help me dress; I don't want Martha," said Ma- 
 dame Claes, calling her daughter. 
 
The Alkahest. 77 
 
 Balthazar had caught Marguerite and turned her 
 towards him with a jo^'ous action, exclaiming : '•'• Good- 
 evening, my child ; how pretty you are in your muslin 
 gown and that pink sash ! " Then he kissed her forehead 
 and pressed her hand. 
 
 "Mamma, papa has kissed me ! " cried Marguerite, 
 running into her mother's room. " He seems so joyous, 
 so happy ! " 
 
 "My child, your father is a great man; for three 
 years he has toiled for the fame and fortune of his 
 family: he thinks he has attained the object of his 
 search. This day is a festival for us all." 
 
 "My dear mamma," replied Marguerite, "we shall 
 not be alone in our joy, for the servants have been so 
 grieved to see him unlike himself. Oh ! put on another 
 sash, this is faded." 
 
 " So be it ; but make haste, I want to speak to Pier- 
 quin. Where is he ? " 
 
 " In tlie parlor, playing with Jean." 
 
 " Where are Gabriel and Felicie ? " 
 
 " I hear them in the garden." 
 
 "Run down quickly and see that they do not pick 
 the tulips ; your father has not seen them in flower this 
 year, and he may take a fancy to look at them after 
 dinner. Tell Mulquinier to go up and assist your 
 father in dressing." 
 
78 The Alkahest. 
 
 V. 
 
 As Marguerite left the room, Madame Claes glanced 
 at the children through the windows of her chamber, 
 which looked on the garden, and saw that they were 
 watching one of those insects with shining wings spotted 
 with gold, commonly called " darning-needles." 
 
 " Be good, my darlings," she said, raising the lower 
 sash of the window and leaving it up to air the room. 
 Then she knocked gentl}^ on the door of communication, 
 to assure herself that Balthazar had not fallen into ab- 
 straction. He opened it, and seeing him half-dressed, 
 she said in joyous tones : — 
 
 ^' You won't leave me long with Pierquin, will you? 
 Come as soon as you can." 
 
 Her step was so light as she descended that a listener 
 would never have supposed her lame. 
 
 '' When monsieur carried madame upstairs," said 
 the old valet, whom she met on the staircase, "he 
 tore this bit out of her dress, and he broke the jaw of 
 that griffin ; I 'm sure I don't know who can put it 
 on again. There 's oui' staircase ruined — and it used 
 to be so handsome ! " 
 
The Alkahest. 79 
 
 *' Never mind, m}^ poor Mulquinier; don't have it 
 mended at all — it is not a misfortune," said his 
 mistress. 
 
 " What can have happened?" thought Lemulquinier ; 
 " why isn't it a misfortune, I should like to know? has 
 the master found the Absolute ? " 
 
 "Good-evening, Monsieur Pierquin," said Madame 
 Claes, opening the parlor door. 
 
 The notary rushed forward to give her his arm ; as 
 she never took any but that of her husband she thanked 
 him with a smile and said, — 
 
 " Have 3'ou come for the thirty thousand francs? " 
 
 " Yes, madame ; when I reached home I found a let- 
 ter of advice from Messieurs Protez and Chiffreville, 
 who have drawn six letters of exchange upon Monsieur 
 Claes for five thousand francs each." 
 
 " Well, sa}- nothing to Balthazar to-day," she replied. 
 *' Stay and dine with us. If he happens to ask why 
 you came, find some plausible pretext, I entreat you. 
 Give me the letter. I will speak to him m3'self about 
 it. All is well," she added, noticing the law3'er's sur- 
 prise. " In a few months m}^ husband will probably 
 pay off all the sums he has borrowed." 
 
 Hearing these words, which were said in a low voice, 
 the notary looked at Mademoiselle Claes, who was 
 entering the room from the garden followed by Gabriel 
 and Felicie, and remarked, — 
 
80 The Alkahest, 
 
 " I have never seen Mademoiselle Marguerite as 
 pretty as she is at this moment." 
 
 Madame Claes, who was sitting in her armchair with 
 little Jean upon her lap, raised her head and looked at 
 her daughter, and then at the notary, with a pretended 
 air of indifference. 
 
 Pierquin was a man of middle height, neither stout 
 nor thin, with vulgar good looks, a face that expressed 
 vexation rather than melancholy, and a pensive habit in 
 which there was more of indecision than thought. Peo- 
 ple called him a misanthrope, but he was too eager after 
 his own interests, and too extortionate towards others 
 to have set up a genuine divorce from the world. His 
 indifferent demeanor, his affected silence, his habitual 
 custom of looking, as it were, into the void, seemed to 
 indicate depth of character, while in fact the}' merely 
 concealed the shallow insignificance of a notary busied 
 exclusively with earthly interests ; though he was still 
 young enough to feel envy. To marry into the family 
 of Claes would have been to him an object of extreme 
 desire, if an instinct of avarice had not underlain it. 
 He could seem generous, but for all that he was a keen 
 reckoner. And thus, without explaining to himself the 
 motive for his change of manner, his behavior was 
 harsh, peremptor}^, and surly, like that of an ordinary 
 business man, when he thought the Claes were ruined ; 
 accommodating, affectionate, and almost servile, when 
 
The Alkahest. 81 
 
 he saw reason to believe in a happy issue to his cousin's 
 labors. Sometimes he beheld an infanta in Marguerite 
 Claes, to whom no provincial notary might aspire ; then 
 he regarded her as any poor girl too happy if he 
 deigned to make her his wife. He was a true provin- 
 cial, and a Fleming ; without malevolence, not devoid 
 of devotion and kindheartedness, but led hy a naive 
 selfishness which rendered all his better qualities incom- 
 plete, while certain absurdities of manner spoiled his 
 personal appearance. 
 
 Madame Claes recollected the curt tone in which the 
 notary had spoken to her that afternoon in the porch of 
 the church, and she took note of the change which her 
 present reply had wrought in his demeanor ; she guessed 
 its meaning and tried to read her daughter's mind by 
 a penetrating glance, seeking to discover if she thought 
 of her cousin ; but the young girl's manner showed 
 complete indifference. 
 
 After a few moments spent in general conversation 
 on the cun-ent topics of the day, the master of the house 
 came down from his bedroom, where his wife had heard 
 with inexpressible dehght the creaking sound of his 
 boots as he trod the floor. The step was that of a young 
 and active man, and foretold so complete a transfor- 
 mation, that the mere expectation of his appearance 
 made Madame Claes quiver as he descended the stairs. 
 Balthazar entered, dressed in the fashion of the period. 
 
82 The Alkahest. 
 
 He wore highly polished top-boots, which allowed the 
 upper part of the white silk stockings to appear, blue 
 kerse3'mere small-clothes with gold buttons^ a flowered 
 white waistcoat, and a blue frock-coat. He had trimmed 
 his beard, combed and perfumed his hair, pared his 
 nails, and washed his hands, all with such care that he 
 was scarcel}^ recognizable to those who had seen him 
 latel}^ Instead of an old man almost decrepit, his 
 children, his wife, and the notary saw a Balthazar 
 Claes who was forty years old, and whose courteous and 
 affable presence was full of its former attractions. The 
 weariness and suffering betrayed by the thin face and 
 the clinging of the skin to the bones, had in themselves 
 a sort of charm. 
 
 "Good-evening, Pierquin," said Monsieur Claes. 
 
 Once more a husband and a father, he took his 
 3'oungest child from his wife's lap and tossed him in 
 the air. 
 
 " See that little fellow ! " he exclaimed to the notar}-. 
 "Doesn't such a prett}^ creature make j^ou long to 
 marry? Take my word for it, my dear Pierquin, familv 
 happiness consoles a man for everything. Up, up ! " 
 he cried, tossing Jean in the air; "down, down! up! 
 down ! " 
 
 The child laughed with all his heart as he went alter- 
 nately to the ceiling and down to the carpet. The 
 mother turned away her eyes that she might not betray 
 
The Alkahest. 83 
 
 the emotion which the simple play caused her, — simple 
 apparentl}', but to her a domestic revolution. 
 
 *' Let me see how you can walk," said Balthazar, 
 putting his son on the floor and throwing himself on a 
 sofa near his wife. 
 
 The child ran to its father, attracted by the glitter 
 of the gold buttons which fastened the breeches just 
 above the slashed tops of his boots. 
 
 *' You are a darling ! " cried Balthazar, kissing him ; 
 ** you are a Claes, you walk straight. Well, Gabriel, 
 how is Pere Morillon? " he said to his eldest son, tak- 
 ing him by the ear and twisting it. "Are you strug- 
 gling valiantly with your themes and your construing ? 
 have you taken sharp hold of mathematics ? " 
 
 Then he rose, and went up to the notary with the 
 affectionate courtes}^ that characterized him. 
 
 '*My dear Pierquin," he said, "perhaps you have 
 something to say to me." He took his arm to lead 
 him to the garden, adding, " Come and see my 
 tulips." 
 
 Madame Claes looked at her husband as he left the 
 room, unable to repress the joy she felt in seeing him 
 once more so young, so affable, so truly himself. She 
 rose, took her daughter round the waist and kissed her, 
 exclaiming : — 
 
 " My dear Marguerite, my darling child ! I love you 
 better than ever to-day." 
 
84 The Alkahest. 
 
 "It is long since I have seen my father so kind," 
 answered the young girl. 
 
 Lemulquinier announced dinner. To prevent Pier- 
 quin from offering her his arm, Madame Claes took that 
 of her husband and led the way into the next room, the 
 whole family following. 
 
 The dining-room, whose ceiling was supported by 
 beams and decorated with paintings cleaned and re- 
 stored ever}' 3^ear, was furnished with tall oaken side- 
 boards and buffets, on whose shelves stood many a 
 curious piece of family china. The walls were hung 
 with violet leather, on which designs of game and 
 other liunting objects were stamped in gold. Carefully 
 arranged here and there above the shelves, shone the 
 brilliant plumage of strange birds, and the lustre of rare 
 shells. The chairs, which evidently had not been 
 changed since the beginning of the sixteenth century, 
 showed the square shape with twisted columns and the 
 low back covered with a fringed stuff, common to that 
 period, and glorified b}^ Raphael in his picture of the 
 Madonna della Sedia. The wood of these chairs was 
 now black, but the gilt nails shone as if new, and the 
 stuff, carefully renewed from time to time, was of an 
 admirable shade of red. 
 
 The whole life of Flanders with its Spanish innova- 
 tions was in this room. The decanters and flasks on 
 the dinner-table, with their graceful antique lines and 
 
The AUcahect. 85 
 
 swelling curves, had an air of respectability. The 
 glasses were those old goblets with stems and feet 
 which may be seen in the pictures of the Dutch or 
 Flemish school. The dinner-service of faience, deco- 
 rated with raised colored figures, in the manner of Ber- 
 nard Palissy, came from the English manufactory of 
 Wedgwood. The silver- ware was massive, with square 
 sides and designs in high relief, — genuine familj^ plate, 
 whose pieces, in every variety of form, fashion, and chas- 
 ing, showed the beginnings of prosperitj' and the progress 
 towards fortune of the Claes famil3\ The napkins were 
 fringed, a fashion altogether Spanish ; and as for the 
 linen, it will readily be supposed that the Claes's house- 
 hold made it a point of honor to possess the best. 
 
 All this service of the table, silver, linen, and glass, 
 were for the daily use of the familj'. The front house, 
 where the social entertainments were given, had its 
 own especial luxurj', whose marvels, being reserved for 
 great occasions, wore an air of dignity often lost to 
 things which are, as it were, made common by daily 
 use. Here, in the home quarter, everything bore the 
 impress of patriarchal use and simplicity. And — for 
 a final and delightful detail — a vine grew outside the 
 house between the windows, whose tendrilled branches 
 twined about the casements. 
 
 "You are faithful to the old traditions, madame," 
 said Pierquin, as he received a plate of that celebrated 
 
86 The Alkahest, 
 
 thyme soup in which the Dutch and Flemish cooks put 
 little force-meat balls and dice of fried bread. *' This 
 is the Sunday soup of our forefathers. Your house and 
 that of my uncle des Raquets are the only ones where 
 we still find this historic soup of the Netherlands. Ah ! 
 pardon me, old Monsieur Savaron de Savarus of Tour- 
 nai makes it a matter of pride to keep up the custom ; 
 but everywhere else old Flanders is disappearing. 
 Now-a-daj's ever3^thing is changing ; furniture is made 
 from Greek models ; wherever you go you see helmets, 
 lances, shields, and bows and arrows ! Everybody is 
 rebuilding his house, selling his old furniture, melting 
 up his silver dishes, or exchanging them for Sevres 
 porcelain, — which does not compare with either old 
 Dresden or with Chinese ware. Oh! as for me, I'm 
 Flemish to the core ; my heart actually bleeds to see 
 the coppersmiths buying up our beautiful inlaid furni- 
 ture for the mere value of the wood and the metal. 
 The fact is, society wants to change its skin. Every- 
 thing is being sacrificed, even the old methods of art. 
 When people insist on going so fast, nothing is con- 
 scientiously done. During my last visit to Paris I was 
 taken to see the pictures in the Louvre. On my word 
 of honor, they are mere screen-painting, — no depth, no 
 atmosphere ; the painters were actually afraid to put 
 colors on their canvas. And it is the}^ who talk of 
 overturning our ancient school of art ! Ah, bah ! — " 
 
The Alkahest. 87 
 
 *' Our old masters," replied Balthazar, " studied the 
 combination of colors and their endurance by submit- 
 ting them to the action of sun and rain. You are right 
 enough, however ; the material resources of art are less 
 cultivated in these daj's than formerlj'." 
 
 Madame Claes was not listening to the conversa- 
 tion. The notary's remark that porcelain dinner-ser- 
 vices were now the fashion, gave her the brilliant idea 
 of selling a quantity of heavy silver- ware which she 
 had inherited from her brother, — hoping to be able 
 thus to pay off the thirt}^ thousand francs which her 
 husband owed. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " Balthazar was saying to Pierquin when 
 Madame Claes's mind returned to the conversation, 
 '' so the}" are discussing m}^ work in Douai, are thej'?'* 
 
 *' Yes," replied the notary, " everj^ one is asking 
 what it is 3"ou spend so much mone}" on. Only yester- 
 day I heard the chief-justice deploring that a man like 
 you should be searching for the Philosopher's stone. 
 I ventured to reply that you were too wise not to 
 know that such a scheme was attempting the impossi- 
 ble, too much of a Christian to take God's work out of 
 his hands ; and, like every other Claes, too good a busi- 
 ness man to spend your money for such befooling 
 quackeries. Still, I admit that I share the regret peo- 
 ple feel at your absence from society. You might as 
 well not live here at all. Really, madame, you would 
 
88 The Alkahest, 
 
 have been delighted had you heard the praises show- 
 ered on Monsieur Claes and on you." 
 
 "You acted like a faithful friend in repelling impu- 
 tations whose least evil is to make me ridiculous," 
 said Balthazar. ' ' Ha ! so they think me ruined ? 
 Well, my dear Pierquin, two months hence I shall 
 give a fete in honor of my wedding-day whose mag- 
 nificence will get me back the respect my dear towns- 
 men bestow on wealth." 
 
 Madame Claes colored deeply. For two years the 
 anniversary had been forgotten. Like madmen whose 
 faculties shine at times with unwonted brilliancy, Bal- 
 thazar was never more gracious and delightful in his 
 tenderness than at this moment. He was full of atten- 
 tion to his children, and his conversation had the 
 charms of grace, and wit, and pertinence. This return 
 of fatherly feeling, so long absent, was certainly the 
 truest fete he could give his wife, for whom his looks 
 and words expressed once more that unbroken sym- 
 pathy of heart for heart which reveals to each a deli- 
 cious oneness of sentiment. 
 
 Old Lemulquinier seemed to renew his youth ; he 
 came and went about the table with unusual liveliness, 
 caused hy the accomplishment of his secret hopes. 
 The sudden change in his master's ways was even more 
 significant to him than to Madame Claes. Where the 
 family saw happiness he saw fortune. While helping 
 
The Alkahest. 89 
 
 Balthazar in his experiments he had gi'own to share his 
 beliefs. Whether he really understood the drift of his 
 master's researches from certain exclamations which 
 escaped the chemist when expected results disappointed 
 him, or whether the innate tendenc}^ of mankind to- 
 wards imitation made him adopt the ideas of the man 
 in whose atmosphere he lived, certain it is that Lemul- 
 quinier had conceived for his master a superstitious 
 feeling that was a mixture of terror, admiration, and 
 selfishness. The laboratory was to him what a lottery- 
 office is to the masses, — organized liope. Everj^ night 
 he went to bed saying to himself, "To-morrow we 
 ma}' float in gold ; " and every morning he woke with 
 a faith as firm as that of the night before. 
 
 His name proved that his origin was wholl^^ Flemish. 
 In former daj^s the lower classes were known by some 
 name or nickname derived from their trades, their sur- 
 roundings, their physical conformation, or their moral 
 qualities. This name became the patronymic of the 
 burgher family which each established as soon as he 
 obtained his freedom. Sellers of linen thread were 
 called in Flanders " mulqidniers ;'''* and that no doubt 
 was the trade of the particular ancestor of the old valet 
 who passed from a state of serfdom to one of burgher 
 dignity, until some unknown misfortune had again re- 
 duced his present descendant to the condition of a serf, 
 with the addition of wages. The whole historj^ of 
 
90 The Alkahest 
 
 Flanders and its linen-trade was epitomized in this old 
 man, often called, by way of euphon}^, Mulquinier. 
 He was not without originality, either of character or 
 appearance. His face was triangular in shape, broad 
 and long, and seamed by small-pox which had left in- 
 numerable white and shining patches that gave him a 
 fantastic appearance. He was tall and thin ; his whole 
 demeanor solemn and mysterious ; and his small eyes, 
 yellow as the wig which was smoothly plastered on his 
 head, cast none but oblique glances. 
 
 The old valet's outward man was in keeping with 
 the feeling of curiosity which he everywhere in- 
 spired. His position as assistant to his master, the 
 depositary of a secret jealously guarded and about 
 which he maintained a rigid silence, invested him with 
 a species of charm. The denizens of the rue de Paris 
 watched him pass with an interest mingled with awe ; 
 to all their questions he returned sib3'lline answers big 
 with m3-sterious treasures. Proud of being necessary 
 to his master, he assumed an annoying authority over 
 his companions, employing it to further his own in- 
 terests and compel a submission which made him 
 virtually the ruler of the house. Contrary to the cus- 
 tom of Flemish servants, who are deeply attached to 
 the famiUes whom they seiTC, Mulquinier cared only 
 for Balthazar. If any trouble befel Madame Claes, or 
 any joyful ^event happened to the family, he ate his 
 
The Alkahest, 91 
 
 bread and butter and drank his beer as phlegmatically 
 as ever. 
 
 Dinner over, Madame Claes proposed that coffee 
 should be served in the garden, by the bed of tulips 
 which adorned the centre of it. The earthenware pots 
 in which the bulbs were grown (the name of each flower 
 being engraved on slate labels) were sunk in the ground 
 and so arranged as to form a pyramid, at the summit 
 of which rose a certain dragon's-head tulip which Bal- 
 thazar alone possessed. This flower, named tulipa 
 Claesiana, combined the seven colors ; and the curved 
 edges of each petal looked as though they were gilt. 
 Balthazar's father, who had frequently refused ten thou- 
 sand florins for this treasure, took such precautions 
 against the theft of a single seed that he kept the plant 
 alwa3'S in the parlor and often spent whole da^'s in con- 
 templating it. The stem was enormous, erect, firm, 
 and admirably green ; the proportions of the plant were 
 in harmony with the proportions of the flower, whose 
 seven colors were distinguishable from each other with 
 the clearly defined brilliancy which formerly gave such 
 fabulous value to these dazzling plants. 
 
 * ' Here you have at least thirty or fortj^ thousand 
 francs' worth of tulips," said the notary, looking alter- 
 nately at Madame Claes and at the many-colored pyra- 
 mid. The former was too enthusiastic over the beauty 
 of the flowers, which the setting sun was just then 
 
92 The Alkahest. 
 
 transforming into jewels, to observe the meaning of 
 the notary's words. 
 
 " What good do they do you ? " continued Pierquin, 
 addressing Balthazar ; " you ought to sell them." 
 
 "Bah! am I in want of money?" replied Claes, in 
 the tone of a man to whom forty thousand francs was 
 a matter of no consequence. 
 
 There was a moment's silence, during which the 
 children made many exclamations. 
 
 *' See this one, mamma ! " 
 
 "Oh! here's a beauty!" 
 
 " Tell me the name of that one ! " 
 
 "What a gulf for human reason to sound!" cried 
 Balthazar, raising his hands and clasping them with a 
 gesture of despair. "A compound of hydrogen and 
 oxygen gives off, according to their relative propor- 
 tions, under the same conditions and by the same 
 principle, these manifold colors, each of which consti- 
 tutes a distinct result." 
 
 His wife heard the words of his proposition, but it 
 was uttered so rapidly that she did not seize its exact 
 meaning ; and Balthazar, as if remembering that she 
 had studied his favorite science, made her a mysterious 
 sign, saying, — 
 
 " You do not yet understand me, but you will." 
 
 Then he apparently fell back into the absorbed medi- 
 tation now habitual to him. 
 
The Alkahest 93 
 
 "No, I am sure you do not understand him," said 
 Pierquin, taking his coffee from Marguerite's hand. 
 " The Ethiopian can't change his skin, nor the leopard 
 his spots," he whispered to Madame Claes. " Have 
 the goodness to remonstrate with him later ; the devil 
 himself could n't draw him out of his cogitation now ; 
 he is in it for to-day, at any rate." 
 
 So saying, he bade good-by to Claes, who pretended 
 not to hear him, kissed little Jean in his mother's arms, 
 and retired with a low bow. 
 
 When the street-door clanged behind him, Balthazar 
 caught his wife round the waist, and put an end to the 
 uneasiness his feigned revery was causing her by 
 whispering in her ear, — 
 
 " I knew how to get rid of him." 
 
 Madame Claes turned her face to her husband, not 
 ashamed to let him see the tears of happiness that 
 filled her eyes : then she rested her forehead against his 
 shoulder and let little Jean slide to the floor. 
 
 "Let us go back into the parlor," she said, after a 
 pause. 
 
 Balthazar was exuberantly gay throughout the even- 
 ing. He invented games for the children, and plaj'ed 
 with such zest himself that he did not notice two or 
 three short absences made by his wife. About half- 
 past nine, when Jean had gone to bed. Marguerite 
 returned to the parlor after helping her sister Felicie 
 
94 The Alkahest 
 
 to undress, and found her mother seated in the deep 
 armchair, and her father holding his wife's hand 
 as he talked to her. The young girl feared to dis- 
 turb them, and was about to retire without speak- 
 ing, when Madame Claes caught sight of her, and 
 said : — 
 
 "Come in. Marguerite; come here, dear child." 
 She drew her down, kissed her tenderly on the fore- 
 head, and added, " Carry your book into your own 
 room ; but do not sit up too late." 
 
 '' Good-night, my darling daughter," said Balthazar. 
 
 Marguerite kissed her father and mother and went 
 away. Husband and wife remained alone for some 
 minutes without speaking, watching the last glimmer of 
 the twilight as it faded from the trees in the garden, 
 whose outlines were scarcely discernible through the 
 gathering darkness. When night had almost fallen, 
 Balthazar said to his wife in a voice of emotion, — 
 
 " Let us go upstairs." 
 
 Long before English manners and customs had conse- 
 crated the wife's chamber as a sacred spot, that of a 
 Flemish woman was impenetrable. The good house- 
 wives of the Low Countries did not make it a s3'mbol 
 of virtue. It was to them a habit contracted from child- 
 hood, a domestic superstition, rendering the bedroom a 
 delightful sanctuary of tender feelings, where simplicity 
 blended with all that was most sweet and sacred in 
 
The Alkahest, 95 
 
 social life. Any woman in Madame Claes's position 
 would have wished to gather about her the elegances of 
 life, but Josephine had done so with exquisite taste, 
 knowing well how great an influence the aspect of our 
 surroundings exerts upon the feelings of others. To 
 a pretty creature it would have been mere luxury, to 
 her it was a necessity. No one better understood the 
 meaning of the saying, " A pretty woman is self- 
 created," — a maxim which guided every action of Na- 
 poleon's first wife, and often made her false ; whereas 
 Madame Claes was ever natural and true. 
 
 Though Balthazar knew his wife's chamber well, his 
 forgetfulness of material things had lately been so com- 
 plete that he felt a thrill of soft emotion when he entered 
 it, as though he saw it for the first time. The proud 
 gayety of a triumphant woman glowed in the splendid 
 colors of the tulips which rose from the long throats of 
 Chinese vases judiciously placed about the room, and 
 sparkled in the profusion of lights whose effect can only 
 be compared to a joyous burst of martial music. The 
 gleam of the wax candles cast a mellow sheen on the 
 coverings of pearl-gray silk, whose monotony was re- 
 lieved by touches of gold, soberly distributed here and 
 there on a few ornaments, and by the varied colors of 
 the tulips, which were like sheaves of precious stones. 
 The secret of this choice arrangement — it was he, ever 
 he ! Josephine could not tell him in words more 
 
96 The Alkahest. 
 
 eloquent that he was now and ever the mainspring of 
 her jo3"s and woes. 
 
 The aspect of that chamber put the soul deliciously 
 at ease, cast out sad thoughts, and left a sense of pure 
 and equable happiness. The silken coverings, brought 
 from China, gave forth a soothing perfume that pene- 
 trated the S3^stem without fatiguing it. The curtains, 
 carefullj^ drawn, betraj'ed a desire for solitude, a jealous 
 intention of guarding the sound of every word, of hiding 
 every look of the reconquered husband. Madame 
 Claes, wearing a dressing-robe of muslin, which was 
 trimmed by a long pelerine with falls of lace that came 
 about her throat, and adorned with her beautiful black 
 hair, which was exquisitely glossy and fell on either 
 side her forehead like a raven's wing, went to draw the 
 tapestry portiere that hung before the door and allowed 
 no sound to penetrate the chamber from without. 
 
The Alkahest, 97 
 
 VL 
 
 At the doorway Josephine turned, and threw to her 
 husband, who was sitting near the chimney, one of 
 those gaj^ smiles with which a sensitive woman whose 
 soul comes at moments into her face, rendering it beau- 
 tiful, gives expression to irresistible hopes. Woman's 
 greatest charm lies in her constant appeal to the gener- 
 osity of man by the admission of a weakness which stirs 
 his pride and wakens him to the nobler sentiments. 
 Is not such an avowal of weakness full of magical se- 
 duction ? When the rings of the portiere had slipped 
 with a muffled sound along the wooden rod, she turned 
 towards Claes, and made as though she would hide her 
 physical defects by resting her hand upon a chair and 
 drawing herself gracefully forward. It was calling him 
 to help her. Balthazar, sunk for a moment in contem- 
 plation of the olive-tinted head, which attracted and 
 satisfied the eye as it stood out in relief against the 
 soft gray background, rose to take his wife in his arms 
 and carry her to her sofa. This was what she wanted. 
 
 *' You promised me," she said, taking his hand which 
 she held between her own magnetic palms, " to tell me 
 
98 The Alkahest, 
 
 the secret of your researches. Admit, dear friend, that 
 I am worthy to know it, since I have had the courage 
 to study a science condemned by the Church that I 
 might be able to understand you. I am curious ; hide 
 nothing from me. Tell me first how it happened that 
 you rose one morning anxious and oppressed, when 
 over night I had left you happy." 
 
 "Is it to hear me talk of chemistry that you have 
 made yourself so coquettishly delightful?" 
 
 " Dear friend, a confidence which puts me in j^our 
 inner heart is the greatest of all pleasures for me ; is it 
 not a communion of souls which gives birth to the 
 highest happiness of earth ? Your love comes back to 
 me not lessened, pure ; I long to know what dream has 
 had the power to keep it from me so long. Yes, I am 
 more jealous of a thought than of all the women in the 
 world. Love is vast, but it is not infinite, while Science 
 has depths unfathomed, to which I will not let you go 
 alone. I hate all that comes between us. If 3'ou win 
 the glory for which 3'ou strive, I must be unhappy ; it 
 will bring you joy, while I — I alone — should be the 
 giver of your happiness." 
 
 "No, my angel, it was not an idea, not a thought; 
 it was a man that first led me into this glorious path." 
 " A man ! " she cried in terror. 
 " Do you remember, Pepita, the Polish officer who 
 stayed with us in 1809?" 
 
TJie Alkahest, 99 
 
 "Do I remember him!" she exclaimed; *' I am 
 often anno3'ed because my memory still recalls those 
 eyes, like tongues of fire darting from coals of hell, 
 those hollows above the eyebrows, that broad skull 
 stripped of hair, the upturned moustache, the angular, 
 worn face ! — What awful impassiveness in his bear- 
 ing ! Ah ! surely if there had been a room in anj^ inn 
 I would never have allowed him to sleep here." 
 
 *'That Polish gentleman," resumed Balthazar, " was 
 named Adam de Wierzchownia. When you left us 
 alone that evening in the parlor, we happened by 
 chance to speak of chemistry. Compelled by poverty 
 to give up the study of that science, he had become a 
 soldier. It was, I think, by means of a glass of sug- 
 ared water that we recognized each other as adepts. 
 When I ordered Mulquinier to bring the sugar in pieces, 
 the captain gave a start of surprise. ' Have you stud- 
 ied chemistry ? ' he asked. ' With Lavoisier,' I an- 
 swered. ' You are happy in being rich and free,' he 
 cried ; then from the depths of his bosom came the sigh 
 of a man, — one of those sighs which reveal a hell of an- 
 guish hidden in the brain or in the heart, a something 
 ardent, concentrated, not to be expressed in words. 
 He ended his sentence with a look that startled me. 
 After a pause, he told me that Poland being at her 
 last gasp he had taken refuge in Sweden. There he 
 had sought consolation for his countrj^'s fate in the 
 
100 The Alkahest, 
 
 study of chemistry, for which he had always felt an 
 irresistible vocation. ' And I see you recognize as I 
 do,' he added, 'that gum arabic, sugar, and starch, 
 reduced to powder, each 3deld a substance absolutely 
 similar, with, when analj^zed, the same qualitative 
 result.' 
 
 "He paused again; and then, after examining me 
 with a searching eye, he said confidentially, in a low 
 voice, certain grave words whose general meaning 
 alone remains fixed on my memory ; but he spoke with 
 a force of tone, with fervid inflections, with an energy 
 of gesture, which stirred my very vitals, and struck my 
 imagination as the hammer strikes the anvil. I will tell 
 you briefly the arguments he used, which were to me 
 like the live coal laid by the Almighty upon Isaiah's 
 tongue ; for my studies with Lavoisier enabled me to 
 understand their full bearing. 
 
 *' ' Monsieur,' he said, ' the parity of these three sub- 
 stances, in appearance so distinct, led me to think that 
 all the productions of nature ought to have a single 
 principle. The researches of modern chemistry prove 
 the truth of this law in the larger part of natural 
 effects. Chemistry divides creation into two distinct 
 parts, — organic nature, and inorganic nature. Or- 
 ganic nature, comprising as it does all animal and vege- 
 table creations which show an organization more or less 
 perfect, — or, to be more exact, a gi*eater or lesser 
 
The Alkahest, 101 
 
 motive power, which gives more or less sensibility, — 
 is, undoubtedly, the more important part of our earth. 
 Now, analysis has reduced all the products of this 
 nature to four simple substances, namely : three gases, 
 nitrogen, hydrogen, and oxygen, and another simple 
 substance, non-metallic and solid, carbon. Inorganic 
 nature, on the contrary, so simple, devoid of movement 
 and sensation, denied the power of growth (too hastily 
 accorded to it by Linnaeus) , possesses fifty-three simple 
 substances, or elements, whose difierent combinations 
 make its products. Is it probable that means should 
 be more numerous where a lesser number of results are 
 produced ? 
 
 '"• ' My master's opinion was that these fifty-three pri- 
 mary bodies have one originating principle, acted upon 
 in the past by some force the knowledge of which has 
 perished to-day, but which human genius ought to redis- 
 cover. Well, then, suppose that this force does live and 
 act again ; we have chemical unity. Organic and inor- 
 ganic nature would apparently then rest on four essential 
 principles, — in fact, if we could decompose nitrogen 
 which we ought to consider a negation, we should have 
 but three. This brings us at once close upon the great 
 Ternary of the ancients and of the alchemists of the Mid- 
 dle Ages, whom we do wrong to scorn. Modern chem- 
 istry is nothing more than that. It is much, and yet 
 little, — much, because the science has never recoiled 
 
102 The Alkahest. 
 
 before diflSculty ; little, in comparison with what remains 
 to be done. Chance has served her well, Tny noble Sci- 
 ence ! Is not that tear of crj'stallized pure carbon, the 
 diamond, seemingly the last substance possible to cre- 
 ate? The old alchemists, who thought that gold was 
 decomposable and therefore creatable, shrank from the 
 idea of producing the diamond. Yet we have discov- 
 ered the nature and the law of its composition. 
 
 " ' As for me,' he continued, ' I have gone farther 
 still. An experiment proved to me that the mysterious 
 Ternary, which has occupied the human mind from 
 time immemorial, will not be found by physical analy- 
 ses, which lack direction to a fixed point. I will relate, 
 in the first place, the experiment itself. 
 
 " ' Sow cress-seed (to take one among the many sub- 
 stances of organic nature) in flour of brimstone (to take 
 another simple substance). Sprinkle the seed with dis- 
 tilled water, that no unknown element may reach the 
 product of the germination. The seed germinates, and 
 sprouts from a known envu'onment, and feeds only on 
 elements known by analysis. Cut ofi" the stalks from 
 time to time, till yon get a sufficient quantity to pro- 
 duce after burning them enough ashes for the experi- 
 ment. Well, b}^ analyzing those ashes, you will obtain 
 silicic acid, aluminium, phosphate and carbonate of 
 lime, carbonate of magnesia, the sulphate and carbonate 
 of potassium, and oxide of iron, precisely as if the 
 
The Alkahest. 103 
 
 cress had grown in ordinary earth, beside a brook. 
 Now, those elements did not exist in the brimstone, 
 a simple substance which served for soil to the cress, 
 nor in the distilled water with which the plant was 
 nourished, whose composition was known. But since 
 they are no more to be found in the seed itself, we can 
 explain their presence in the plant onl}^ by assuming the 
 existence of a primary element common to all the sub- 
 stances contained in the cress, and also to all those by 
 which we environed it. Thus the air, the distilled 
 water, the brimstone, and the various elements which 
 analysis finds in the cress, namely, potash, lime, mag- 
 nesia, aluminium, etc., should have one common prin- 
 ciple floating in the atmosphere like light of the sun. 
 
 " ' From this unimpeachable experiment,' he cried, ' I 
 deduce the existence of the Alkahest, the Absolute, — 
 a substance common to all created things, differentiated 
 by one primary force. Such is the net meaning and 
 position of the problem of the Absolute, which appears 
 to me to be solvable. In it we find the mysterious 
 Ternary, before whose shrine humanity has knelt from 
 the dawn of ages, — the primary matter, the medium, 
 the product. We find that terrible number Three in 
 all things human. It governs religions, sciences, and 
 laws. 
 
 " 'It was at this point,' he went on, ' that povertj^ 
 put an end to my researches. You were the pupil of 
 
104 The Alkahest, 
 
 Lavoisier, you are rich, and master of jouv own time ; 
 I will therefore tell you my conjectures. Listen to the 
 conclusions my personal experiments have led me to 
 foresee. The Prime Matter must be the common 
 principle in the three gases and in carbon. The Me- 
 dium must be the principle common to negative and 
 positive electricity. Proceed to the discovery of the 
 proofs that will establish those two truths ; you will 
 then find the explanation of all phenomenal existence. 
 
 *' ' Oh, monsieur ! ' he cried, striking his brow, ' when 
 I know that I carry here the last word of Creation, 
 when intuitively I perceive the Unconditioned, is it 
 living to be dragged hither and thither in the ruck of 
 men who fly at each other^s throats at the word of com- 
 mand without knowing what they are doing ? My actual 
 life is an inverted dream. My body comes and^ goes and 
 acts ; it moves amid bullets, and cannon, and men ; it 
 crosses Europe at the will of a power I obey and yet 
 despise. My soul has no consciousness of these acts ; 
 it is fixed, immovable, plunged in one idea, rapt in that 
 idea, the Search for the Alkahest, — for that principle 
 by which seeds that are absolutely alike, growing in the 
 same environments, produce, some a white, others a 
 yellow flower. The same phenomenon is seen in silk- 
 worms fed from the same leaves, and apparently con- 
 stituted exactly alike, — one produces yellow silk, 
 another white ; and if we come to man himself, we 
 
The Alkahest. 105 
 
 find that children often resemble neither father nor 
 mother. The logical deduction from this fact surely in- 
 volves the explanation of all the phenomena of nature. 
 
 " ' Ah, what can be more in harmony with our ideas 
 of God than to believe he created all things by the 
 simplest method ? The Pj'thagorean worship of One, 
 from which come all other numbers, and which repre- 
 sents Primal Matter; that of the number Two, the first 
 aggregation and the type of all the rest ; that of the 
 number Three, which throughout all time has sj-mbo- 
 lized God, — that is to say, Matter, Force, and Pro- 
 duct, — are they not an echo, lingering along the ages, 
 of some confused knowledge of the Absolute ? Stahl, 
 Becker, Paracelsus, Agrippa, all the great Searchers 
 into occult causes took the Great Triad for their watch- 
 word, — in other words, the Ternar3\ Ignorant men 
 who despise alchemy, that transcendent chemistry, are 
 not aware that our work is only carrying onward the 
 passionate researches of those great men. Had I found 
 the Absolute, the Unconditioned, I meant to have 
 grappled with Motion. Ah ! while I am swallowing 
 gunpowder and leading men uselessly to their death, 
 my former master is piling discovery upon discovery ! 
 he is soaring towards the Absolute, while I — I shall 
 die like a dog in the trenches ! ' 
 
 " When this poor grand man recovered his compo- 
 sure, he said, in a touching tone of brotherhood, ' If I 
 
106 The Alkahest. 
 
 see cause for a great experiment I will bequeath it to 
 5'ou before I die.' — My Pepita," cried Balthazar, taking 
 his wife's hands, " tears of anguish rolled down his 
 hollow cheeks, as he cast into m}^ soul the fiery argu- 
 ments that Lavoisier had timidly recognized witliout 
 daring to follow them out — " 
 
 *'0h ! " cried Madame Claes, unable to refrain from 
 interi'upting her husband, " that man, passing one 
 night under our roof, was able to deprive us of your 
 love, to destroy with a phrase, a word, the happiness 
 of a family ! Oh, my dear Balthazar, did. he make 
 the sign of the cross? did j'ou examine him? The 
 Tempter alone could have had that flaming eye which 
 sent forth the fire of Prometheus. Yes, none but the 
 Devil could have torn you from me. From that day 
 you have been neither husband, nor father, nor master 
 of your family." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Balthazar, springing to his feet 
 and casting a piercing glance at his wife, '' do you 
 blame your husband for rising above the level of other 
 men that he may lay at your feet the divine purple of 
 his glory, as a paltry offering in exchange for the treas- 
 ures of your heart! Ah, my Pepita," he cried, "3'ou 
 do not know what I have done. In these three years 
 I have made giant strides — " 
 
 His face seemed to his wife at this moment more 
 transfigured under the fires of genius than she had ever 
 
The Alkahest. lOT 
 
 seen it under the fires of love ; and she wept as she 
 listened to him. 
 
 " I have combined chlorine and nitrogen ; I have de- 
 composed many substances hitherto considered simple ; 
 I have discovered new metals. Why ! " he continued, 
 noticing that his wife wept, ''I have even decom- 
 posed tears. Tears contain a little phosphate of lime, 
 chloride of sodium, mucin, and water." 
 
 He went on speaking, without observing the spasm 
 of pain that contracted Josephine's features ; he was 
 again astride of Science, which bore him with outspread 
 wings far away from material existence. 
 
 "This analysis, my dear," he went on, "is one of 
 the most convincing proofs of the theory of the Abso- 
 lute. All life involves combustion. 7 According to the 
 greater or the lesser activity of the fire on its hearth 
 is life more or less enduring. In like manner, the de- 
 struction of mineral bodies is indefinitely retarded, 
 because in their case combustion is nominal, latent, 
 or imperceptible. In like manner, again, vegetables, 
 which are constantl}^ revived by combinations producing 
 dampness, live indefinitely ; in fact, we still possess 
 certain vegetables which existed before the period of 
 'the last cataclysm. But each time that nature has 
 perfected an organism and then, for some unknown 
 reason, has introduced into it sensation, instinct, or in- 
 telligence (three marked stages of the organic system) , 
 
103 The AlJcaJiest 
 
 these three agencies necessitate a combustion whose 
 activit}^ is in direct proportion to the result obtained. 
 Man, who represents the highest point of intelligence, 
 and who offers us the only organism by which we 
 arrive at a power that is semi-creative — namely, 
 Thought — is, among all zoological creations, the one 
 in which combustion is found in its most intense de- 
 'gree ; whose powerful effects may in fact be seen to 
 some extent in the phosphates, sulphates, and carbo- 
 nates which man's body reveals to our analysis. May 
 not these substances be traces left within him of the 
 passage of the electric fluid which is the principle of 
 all fertilization? Would not electricity^ manifest itself 
 liy a greater variety of compounds in him than in any 
 other animal? Should not he have faculties above 
 those of all other created beings for the purpose of 
 absorbing fuller portions of the Absolute principle? 
 and may he not assimilate that principle so as to pro- 
 duce, in some more perfect mechanism, his force and 
 his ideas? I think so. Man is a retort. In my 
 judgment, the brain of an idiot contains too little 
 phosphorus or other product of electro-magnetism, 
 that of a madman too much ; the brain of an or- 
 dinary man has but little, while that of a man of 
 genius is saturated to its due degree. The man 
 constantly in love, the street-porter, the dancer, the 
 large eater, are the ones who disperse the force 
 
The Alkahest. 109 
 
 resulting from their electrical apparatus. Consequently, 
 our feelings — " 
 
 "Enough, Balthazar! you terrify me; you commit 
 sacrilege. What, is my love — " 
 
 *' An ethereal matter disengaged, an emanation, the 
 key of the Absolute. Conceive if I — I, the first, 
 should find it, find it, find it ! " 
 
 As he uttered the words in three rising tones, the ex- 
 pression of his face rose by degrees to inspiration. " I 
 shall make metals," he cried ; " I shall make diamonds, 
 I shall be a co-worker with Nature ! " 
 
 "Will you be the happier?" she asked in despair. 
 "Accursed science! accursed demon! You forget, 
 Claes, that yon commit the sin of pride, the sin of which 
 Satan was guilty ; you assume the attributes of God." 
 
 "Oh! oh! God!" 
 
 "He denies Him!" she cried, wringing her hands. 
 *' Claes, God wields a power that you can never gain." 
 
 At this argument, which seemed to discredit his be- 
 loved Science, he looked at his wife and trembled. 
 
 " What power?" he asked. 
 
 "Primal force — motion," she replied. "This is 
 what I learn from the books your mania has constrained 
 me to read. Analyze fruits, flowers, Malaga wine ; 3'ou 
 will discover, undoubtedly, that their substances come, 
 like those of your water-cress, from a medium that 
 seems foreign to them. You can, if need be, find them 
 
110 The Alkahest, 
 
 in nature ; but when you have them, can you combine 
 them? can you make the flowers, the fruits, the Malaga 
 wine? , Will 3'ou have grasped the inscrutable effects 
 of the sun, of the atmosphere of Spain ? Ah ! decom- 
 posing is not creating." 
 
 " If I discover the magistral force, I shall be able to 
 create." 
 
 " Will nothing stop him ? " cried Pepita. " Oh ! my 
 love, my love ! it is killed ! I have lost him ! " 
 
 She wept bitterly, and her eyes, illumined by grief 
 and by the sanctity of the feelings that flooded her soul, 
 shone with greater beauty than ever through her tears. 
 
 '*Yes," she resumed in a broken voice, "you are 
 dead to all. I see it but too well. Science is more 
 powerful within you than your own self ; it bears you to 
 heights from which j'ou will return no more to be the 
 companion of a poor woman. What joys can I still 
 offer you? Ah! I would fain believe, as a wretched 
 consolation, that God has indeed created you to make 
 manifest his works, to chant his praises ; that he has 
 put within your breast the irresistible power that has 
 mastered you — But no ; God is good ; he would keep 
 in your heart some thoughts of the woman who adores 
 you, of the children you are bound to protect. It is the 
 Evil One alone who is helping you to walk amid these 
 fathomless abysses, these clouds of outer darkness, 
 where the light of faith does not guide you, — nothing 
 
The Alkahest 111 
 
 guides you but a terrible belief in your own faculties ! 
 Were it otherwise, would 3"0u not have seen that you 
 have wasted nine hundred thousand francs in three 
 years? Oh! do me justice, you, my God on earth! I 
 reproach you not ; were we alone I would bring you, 
 on my knees, all that I possess and say, ' Take it, 
 fling it into your furnace, turn it into smoke ; ' and I 
 should laugh to see it float away in vapor. Were you 
 poor, I would beg without shame for the coal to light 
 your furnace. Oh ! could my body yield your hateful 
 Alkahest, I would fling myself upon those fires with jo}', 
 since your glory, your delight is in that unfound secret. 
 But our children, Claes, our children ! what will become 
 of them if you do not soon discover this hellish thing? 
 Do 3'ou know why Pierquin came to-day ? He came for 
 thirty thousand francs, which 3'ou owe and cannot pa3\ 
 I told him that you had the money, so that I might 
 spare you the mortification of his questions ; but to 
 get it I must sell our family silver." 
 
 She saw her husband's eyes grow moist, and she 
 flung herself despairingly at his feet, raising up to him 
 her supplicating hands. 
 
 " My friend," she cried, "refrain awhile from these 
 researches ; let us economize, let us save the mone}' that 
 may enable you to take them up hereafter, — if, indeed, 
 you cannot renounce this work. Oh ! I do not condemn 
 it ; I will heat your furnaces if you ask it ; but I implore 
 
112 The Alkahest 
 
 you, do not reduce our children to beggary. Perhaps 
 you cannot love them, Science may have consumed your 
 heart ; but oh ! do not bequeath them a wretched life in 
 place of the happiness you owe them. Motherhood has 
 sometimes been too weak a power in my heart ; yes, I 
 have sometimes wished I were not a mother, that I 
 might be closer to your soul, your life ! And now, to 
 stifle my remorse, must I plead the cause of my children 
 before you, and not my own? " 
 
 Her hair fell loose and floated over her shoulders, her 
 eyes shot forth her feelings as though they had been 
 arrows. She triumphed over her rival. Balthazar lifted 
 her, carried her to the sofa, and knelt at her feet. 
 
 "Have I caused you. such grief?" he said, in the 
 tone of a man waking from a painful dream. 
 
 '* My poor Claes ! yes, and you will cause me more, 
 in spite of yourself," she said, passing her hand over 
 his hair. " Sit here beside me," she continued, point- 
 ing to the sofa. '' Ah ! I can forget it all now, now 
 that you come back to us ; all can be repaired — but 
 you will not abandon me again ? say that you will not ! 
 M3' noble husband, grant me a woman's influence on 
 your heart, that influence which is so needful to the 
 happiness of suffering artists, to the troubled minds of 
 great men. You may be harsh to me, angry with me 
 if you will, but let me check you a little for your good. 
 I will never abuse the power if yow will grant it. Be 
 
The Alkahest, 113 
 
 famous, but be happ}^ too. Do not love Chemistry bet- 
 ter than 3^ou love us. Hear me, we will be generous ; 
 we will let Science share 3^our heart ; but oh ! my Claes, 
 be just ; let us have our half. Tell me, is not mj^ dis- 
 interestedness sublime ? " 
 
 She made him smile. With the marvellous art such 
 women possess, she carried the momentous question 
 into the regions of pleasantry where women reign. 
 But though she seemed to laugh, her heart was vio- 
 lently contracted and could not easily recover the quiet 
 even action that was habitual to it. And yet, as she 
 saw in the eyes of Balthazar the rebirth of a love which 
 was once her glory, the full return pf a power she thought 
 she had lost, she said to him with a smile : — 
 
 " Believe me, Balthazar, nature made us to feel ; and 
 though you may wish us to be mere electrical machines, 
 yet your gases and your ethereal disengaged matters 
 will never explain the gift we possess of looking into 
 futurity." 
 
 *'Yes/'he exclaimed, "by affinity. The power of 
 vision which makes the poet, the power of deduction 
 which makes the man of science, are based on invisible 
 affinities, intangible, imponderable, which vulgar minds 
 class as moral phenomena, whereas they are physical 
 effects. The prophet sees and deduces. Unfortu- 
 nately, such affinities are too rare and too obscure to 
 
 be subjected to anatysis or observation." 
 
 8 
 
114 The Alkahest. 
 
 " Is this," she said, giving him a kiss to drive away 
 the Chemistry she had so unfortunately reawakened, 
 " what you call an affinity?" 
 
 ''No; it is a compound; two substances that are 
 equivalents are neutral, they produce no reaction — " 
 
 "Oh! hush, hush," she cried, "you will make me 
 die of grief. I can never bear to see my rival in the 
 transports of yoxxv love." 
 
 "But, my dear hfe, I think only of you. My work 
 is for the glory of m}' family. You are the basis of all 
 my hopes." 
 
 " Ah, look me in the eyes ! " 
 
 The scene had made her as beautiful as a young 
 woman ; of her whole person Balthazar saw only her 
 head, rising from a cloud of lace and muslin. 
 
 " Yes, I have done wrong to abandon jou for Sci- 
 ence," he said. " If I fall back into thought and pre- 
 occupation, then, my Pepita, you must drag me from 
 them; I desire it." 
 
 She lowered her eyes and let him take her hand, her 
 greatest beauty, — a hand that was both strong and 
 delicate. 
 
 " But I ask more," she said. 
 
 " You are so lovely, so delightful, you can obtain 
 all," he answered. 
 
 "I wish to destroy that laboratory, and chain up 
 Science," she said, with fire in her ej^es. 
 
The Alkahest. 115 
 
 " So be it — let Chemistry go to the devil ! " 
 
 " This moment effaces all ! " she cried. " Make me 
 suffer now, if you will." 
 
 Tears came to Balthazar's eyes, as he heard these 
 words. 
 
 " You were right, love," he said. " I have seen yon 
 through a veil ; I have not understood j'ou." 
 
 "If it concerned only me," she said, "willingly 
 would I have suffered in silence, never would I have 
 raised thj voice against m\ sovereign. But your sons 
 must be thought of, Claes. If 3'ou continue to dissi- 
 pate your property, no matter how glorious the object 
 you have in view the world will take little account of 
 it, it will only blame you and yours. But surely, it is 
 enough for a man of your noble nature that his wife 
 has shown him a danger he did not perceive. We will 
 talk of this no more," she cried, with a smile and a 
 glance of coquetry. "To-night, my Claes, let us not 
 be less than happ3\" 
 
116 The AlhahesU 
 
 YII. 
 
 On the morrow of this evening so eventful for the 
 Claes family, Balthazar, from whom Josephine had 
 doubtless obtained some promise as to the cessation 
 of his researches, remained in the parlor, and did not 
 enter his laboratory. The succeeding day the house- 
 hold prepared to move into the country, where they 
 stayed for more than two months, only returning to 
 town in time to prepare for the fete which Claes deter- 
 mined to give, as in former j^ears, to commemorate his 
 wedding day. He now began by degrees to obtain 
 proof of the disorder which his experiments and his 
 indifference had brought into his business affairs. 
 
 Madame Claes, far from irritating the wound by re- 
 marking on it, continually found remedies for the evil 
 that was done. Of the seven servants who customarily 
 served the family, there now remained only Lemul- 
 quinier, Josette the cook, and an old waiting- woman, 
 named Martha, who had never left her mistress since 
 the latter left her convent. It was of course impossible 
 to give a fete to the whole society of Douai with so few 
 
Tlie Alkahest, 117 
 
 servants, but Madame Claes overcame all difficulties 
 by proposing to send to Paris for a cook, to train the 
 gardener's son as a waiter, and to borrow Pierquin's 
 manservant. Thus the pinched circumstances of the 
 family passed unnoticed by the community. 
 
 During the twenty days of preparation for the fete, 
 Madame Claes was cleverly able to outwit her husband's 
 listlessness. She commissioned him to select the rarest 
 plants and flowers to decorate the grand staircase, the 
 gallery, and the salons ; then she sent him to Dunkerque 
 to order one of those monstrous fish which are the glory 
 of the burgher tables in the northern departments. A 
 f§te like that the Claes were about to give is a serious 
 affair, involving thought and care and active corre- 
 spondence, in a land where traditions of hospitality 
 put the family honor so much at stake that to servants 
 as well as masters a grand dinner is like a victory won 
 over the guests. Oysters arrived from Ostend, grouse 
 were imported from Scotland, fruits came from Paris ; 
 in short, not the smallest accessory was lacking to the 
 hereditary luxury. 
 
 A ball at the House of Claes had an importance of its 
 own. The government of the department was then at 
 Douai, and the anniversary fete of the Claes usually 
 opened the winter season and set the fashion to the 
 neighborhood. For fifteen j^ears, Balthazar had en- 
 deavored to make it a distinguished occasion, and had 
 
118 The Alkahest, 
 
 succeeded so well that the fete was talked of throughout 
 a circumference of sixty miles, and the toilettes, the 
 guests, the smallest details, the novelties exhibited, and 
 the events that took place, were discussed far and wide. 
 These preparations now prevented Claes from thinking, 
 for the time being, of the Alkahest. Since his return 
 to social life and domestic ideas, the servant of science 
 had recovered his self-love as a man, as a Fleming, as 
 the master of a household, and he now took pleasure in 
 the thought of surprising the whole country. He re- 
 solved to give a special character to this ball by some 
 exquisite novelty ; and he chose, among all other caprices 
 of luxury, the loveliest, the richest, and the most fleet- 
 ing, — he turned the old mansion into a fairy bower of 
 rare plants and flowers, and prepared choice bouquets 
 for all the ladies. 
 
 The other details of the fete were in keeping with this 
 unheard-of luxury, and nothing seemed likelj^ to mar the 
 eflfect. But the Twenty-ninth Bulletin and the news of 
 the terrible disasters of the grand arm}^ in Russia, and 
 at the passage of the Beresina, were made known on 
 the afternoon of the appointed day. A sincere and 
 profound grief was felt in Douai, and those who were 
 present at the fete, moved by a natural feeling of patri- 
 otism, unanimously declined to dance. 
 
 Among the letters which arrived that day in Douai, 
 was one for Balthazar from Monsieur de Wierzchownia, 
 
The Alkahest 119 
 
 then in Dresden and dying, he wrote, from wounds 
 received in one of the late engagements. He remem- 
 bered his promise, and desired to bequeath to his former 
 host several ideas on the subject of the Absolute, which 
 had come to him since the period of their meeting. The 
 letter plunged Claes into a revery which apparently did 
 honor to his patriotism ; but his wife was not misled by 
 it. To her, this festal da}- brought a double mourning : 
 and the ball, during which the House of Claes shone 
 with departing lustre, was sombre and sad in spite of 
 its magnificence, and the many choice treasures gath- 
 ered by the hands of six generations, which the people 
 of Douai now beheld for the last time. 
 
 Marguerite Claes, just sixteen, was the queen of the 
 day, and on this occasion her parents presented her to 
 society. She attracted all eyes by the extreme simplicity 
 and candor of her air and manner, and especially bj^ the 
 harmony of her form and countenance with the charac- 
 teristics of her home. She was the embodiment of the 
 Flemish girl whom the painters of that country loved to 
 represent, — the head perfectl}^ rounded and full, chest- 
 nut hair parted in the middle and laid smoothly on the 
 brow, gray eyes with a mixture of green, handsome 
 arms, natural stoutness which did not detract from her 
 beauty, a timid air, and yet, on the high square brow 
 an expression of firmness, hidden at present under an 
 apparent calmness and dopility. Without being sad or 
 
120 The AlJcahest 
 
 melancholy, she seemed to have little natural enjoy- 
 ment. Reflectiveness, order, a sense of duty, the three 
 chief expressions of Flemish nature, were the charac- 
 teristics of a face that seemed cold at first sight, but to 
 which the eye was recalled by a certain grace of outUne 
 and a placid pride which seemed the pledges of domes- 
 tic happiness. By one of those freaks which physiolo- 
 gists have not yet explained, she bore no likeness to 
 either father or mother, but was the living image of her 
 maternal great-grandmother, a Conyncks of Bruges, 
 whose portrait, religiously preserv^ed, bore witness to 
 the resemblance. 
 
 The supper gave some life to the ball. If the mili- 
 tary disasters forbade the delights of dancing, every one 
 felt that they need not exclude the pleasures of the 
 table. The true patriots, however, retired early ; only 
 the more indifferent remained, together with a few card- 
 players and the intimate friends of the family. Little 
 by little the brilliantly lighted house, to which all the 
 notabilities of Douai had flocked, sank into silence, and 
 b3^ one o'clock in the morning the great gallery was de- 
 serted, the lights were extinguished in one salon after 
 another, and the court-yard, lately so bustling and bril- 
 liant, grew dark and gloomy, — prophetic image of the 
 future that lay before the family. AVhen the Claes re- 
 turned to their own appartement, Balthazar gave his 
 wife the letter he had received from the Polish officer : 
 
The Alkahest, 121 
 
 Josephine returned it with a mournful gesture ; she fore- 
 saw the coming doom. 
 
 From that day forth, Balthazar made no attempt to 
 disguise the weariness and the depression that assailed 
 him. In the mornings, after the family breakfast, he 
 played for awhile in the parlor with little Jean, and 
 talked to his daughters, who were busy with their sew- 
 ing, or embroidery or lace-work ; but he soon wearied 
 of the play and of the talk, and seemed at last to get 
 through with them as a duty. When his wife came 
 down again after dressing, she always found him sitting 
 in an easj'-chair looking blankly at Marguerite and 
 Felicie, quite undisturbed by the rattle of their bobbins. 
 When the newspaper was brought in, he read it slowly 
 like a retired merchant at a loss how to kill the time. 
 Then he would get up, look at the sky through the 
 window panes, go back to his chair and mend the fire 
 drearily, as though he were deprived of all conscious- 
 ness of his own movements by the tyranny of ideas. 
 
 Madame Claes keenly regretted her defects of edu- 
 cation and memory. It was difficult for her to sustain 
 an interesting conversation for any length of time ; per- 
 haps this is always difficult between two persons who 
 have said everything to each other, and are forced to 
 seek for subjects of interest outside the life of the 
 heart, or the life of material existence. The life of 
 the heart has its own moments of expansion which 
 
122 The Alkahest, 
 
 need some stimulus to bring them forth ; discussions of 
 material life cannot long occupy superior minds accus- 
 tomed to decide promptly ; and the mere gossip of so- 
 ciety is intolerable to loving natures. Consequently, 
 two isolated beings who know each other thoroughly 
 ought to seek their enjoyments in the higher regions 
 of thought ; for it is impossible to satisfy with paltry 
 things the immensity of the relation between them. 
 Moreover, when a man has accustomed himself to deal 
 with great subjects, he becomes unamusable, unless he 
 preserves in the depths of his heart a certain guileless 
 simplicity and unconstraint which often make great 
 geniuses such charming children ; but the childhood of 
 the heart is a rare human phenomenon among those 
 whose mission it is to see all, know all, and compre- 
 hend all. 
 
 During these first months, Madame Claes worked her 
 way through this critical situation, by unwearying ef- 
 forts, which love or necessity suggested to her. She 
 tried to learn backgammon, which she had never been 
 able to play, but now, from an impetus eas}^ to under- 
 stand, she ended by mastering it. Then she interested 
 Balthazar in the education of his daughters, and asked 
 him to direct their studies. All such resources were, 
 however, soon exhausted. There came a time when 
 Josephine's relation to Balthazar was like that of Ma- 
 dame de Maintenon to Louis XIV. ; she had to amuse 
 
The Alkahest 123 
 
 the unamusable, but without the pomps of power or 
 the wiles of a court which could play comedies like 
 the sham embassies from the King of Siam and the 
 Shah of Persia. After wasting the revenues of France, 
 Louis XIV., no longer young or successful, was reduced 
 to the expedients of a family heir to raise the money he 
 needed ; in the midst of his grandeur he felt his impo- 
 tence, and the royal nurse who had rocked the cradles 
 of his children was often at her wit's end to rock his, or 
 soothe the monarch now suffering from his misuse of 
 men and things, of life and God. Claes, on the con- 
 trary, suffered from too much power. Stifling in the 
 clutch of a single thought, he dreamed of the pomps of 
 Science, of treasures for the human race, of glory for 
 himself. He suffered as artists suffer in the grip of 
 povert}^, as Samson suffered beneath the pillars of the 
 temple. The result was the same for the two sov- 
 ereigns ; though the intellectual monarch was crushed 
 by his inward force, the other by his weakness. 
 
 What could Pepita do, singly, against this species of 
 scientific nostalgia? After employing every means that 
 family life afforded her, she called society to the rescue, 
 and gave two "cafes" every week. Cafes at Douai 
 took the place of teas. A cafe was an assemblage 
 at which, during a whole evening, the guests sipped the 
 delicious wines and liqueurs which overflow the cellars 
 of that ever-blessed land, ate the Flemish dainties and 
 
124 The Alkahest. 
 
 took their cafe noir or their cafe au laitfrappe, while 
 tLo women sang ballads, discussed each other's toilettes, 
 and related the gossip of the day. It was a living pic- 
 ture by Mieris or Terburg, without the pointed gray 
 hats, the scarlet plumes, or the beautiful costumes of 
 the sixteenth century. And yet, Balthazar's efforts to 
 pla}' the part of host, his constrained courtesy, his 
 forced animation, left him the next day in a state of 
 languor which showed but too plainly the depths of the 
 inward ill. 
 
 These continual fetes, weak remedies for the real evil, 
 only increased it. Like branches which caught him as 
 he rolled down the precipice, they retarded Claes's fall, 
 but in the end he fell the heavier. Though he never 
 spoke of his former occupations, never showed the least 
 regret for the promise he had given not to renew his 
 researches, he grew to have the melancholy motions, 
 the feeble voice, the depression of a sick person. The 
 ennui that possessed him showed at times in the very 
 manner with which he picked up the tongs and built 
 fantastic p3'ramids in the fire with bits of coal, utterly 
 unconscious of what he was doing. When night came 
 he was evidently relieved ; sleep no doubt released him 
 from the importunities of thought : the next day he 
 rose wearily to encounter another da}^ — seeming to 
 measure time as the tired traveller measures the desert 
 he is forced to cross. 
 
The Alkahest. 125 
 
 If Madame Claes knew the cause of this languor she 
 endeavored not to see the extent of its ravages. Full 
 of courage against the sufferings of the mind, she was 
 helpless against the generous impulses of the heart. 
 She dared not question Balthazar when she saw him 
 listening to the laughter of little Jean or the chatter of 
 his girls, with the air of a man absorbed in secret 
 thoughts ; but she shuddered when she saw him shake 
 off his melancholy and try, with generous intent, to seem 
 cheerful, that he might not distress others. The little 
 coquetries of the father with his daughters, or his games 
 with little Jean, moistened the eyes of the poor wife, 
 who often left the room to hide the feelings that heroic 
 effort caused her, — a heroism the cost of which is well 
 understood by women, a generositj^ that well-nigh breaks 
 their heart. At such times Madame Claes longed to say, 
 " Kill me, and do what you will ! " 
 
 Little by little Balthazar's eyes lost their fire and took 
 the glaucous opaque tint which overspreads the eyes of 
 old men. His attentions to his wife, his manner of 
 speaking, his whole bearing, grew heavy and inert. 
 These s3'mptoms became more marked towards the end 
 of April, terrifying Madame Claes, to whom the sight 
 was now intolerable, and who had all along re- 
 proached herself a thousand times while she admired 
 the Flemish loyalty which kept her husband faithful 
 to his promise. 
 
126 The Alkahest 
 
 At last, one day when Balthazar seemed more de- 
 pressed than ever, she hesitated no longer ; she resolved 
 to sacrifice everything and bring him back to life. 
 
 " Dear friend," she said, "I release you from your 
 promise." 
 
 Balthazar looked at her in amazement. 
 
 " You are thinking of your researches, are you not? " 
 she continued. 
 
 He answered by a gesture of startling eagerness. Far 
 from remonstrating, Madame Claes, who had had leisure 
 to sound the abyss into which they were about to fall 
 together, took his hand and pressed it, smiling. 
 
 ''Thank you," she said; "now I am sure of my 
 power. You sacrificed more than your fife to me. In 
 future, be the sacrifices mine. Though I have sold 
 some of my diamonds, enough are left, with those my 
 brother gave me, to get the necessary money for j^our 
 experiments. I intended those jewels for my daugh- 
 ters, but your glory shall sparkle in their stead ; and, 
 besides, 3'Ou will some day replace them with other and 
 finer diamonds." 
 
 The joy that suddenly lighted her husband's face was 
 like a death-knell to the wife : she saw, with anguish, 
 that the man's passion was stronger than himself 
 Claes had faith in his work which enabled him to walk 
 without faltering on a path which, to his wife, was the 
 edge of a precipice. For him faith, for her doubt, — 
 
The Alkahest. 127 
 
 for her the heavier burden : does not the woman 
 ever suffer for the two? At this moment she chose 
 to believe in his success, that she might justify to 
 herself her connivance in the probable wreck of their 
 fortunes. 
 
 *' The love of all my life can be no recompense for 
 your devotion, Pepita," said Claes, deeply moved. 
 
 He had scarcely uttered the words when Marguerite 
 and Felicie entered the room and wished him good- 
 morning. Madame Claes lowered her eyes and re- 
 mained for a moment speechless in presence of her 
 children, whose future she had just sacrificed to a de- 
 lusion ; her husband, on the contrary-, took them on his 
 knees, and talked to them gayly, delighted to give vent 
 to the joy that choked him. 
 
 From this day Madame Claes shared the impassioned 
 life of her husband. The future of her children, their 
 father's credit, were two motives as powerful to her as 
 glory and science were to Claes. After the diamonds 
 were sold in Paris, and the purchase of chemicals was 
 again begun, the unhappy woman never knew another 
 hour's peace of mind. The demon of Science and the 
 frenzy of research which consumed her husband now 
 agitated her own mind ; she lived in a state of contin- 
 ual expectation, and sat half-lifeless for days together 
 in the deep armchair, paralyzed by the very violence 
 of her wishes, which, finding no food, like those of 
 
128 The Alkahest, 
 
 Balthazar, in the daily hopes of the laborator}^, tor- 
 mented her spirit and aggravated her doubts and fears. 
 Sometimes, blaming herself for compliance with a pas- 
 sion whose object was futile and condemned by the 
 Church, she would rise, go to the window on the court- 
 yard and gaze with terror at the chimney of the labora- 
 tory. If the smoke were rising, an expression of despair 
 came into her face, a conflict of thoughts and feelings 
 raged in her heart and mind. She beheld her child- 
 ren's future fleeing in that smoke, but — was she not 
 saving* their father's life? was it not her first dut}^ to 
 make him happy ? This last thought calmed her for a 
 moment. 
 
 She obtained the right to enter the laboratory and 
 remain there ; but even this melancholy satisfaction 
 was soon renounced. Her sufferings were too keen 
 when she saw that Balthazar took no notice of her, or 
 seemed at times annoyed by her presence ; in that fatal 
 place she went through paroxysms of jealous impa- 
 tience, angry desires to destroy the building, — a living 
 death of untold miseries. Lemulquinier became to her 
 a species of barometer : if she heard him whistle as he 
 laid the breakfast-table or the dinner-table, she guessed 
 that Balthazar's experiments were satisfactory, and 
 there were prospects of a coming success ; if, on the 
 other hand, the man were morose and gloom}', she 
 looked at him and trembled, — Balthazar must surely be 
 
The Alkahest. 129 
 
 « dissatisfied. Mistress and valet ended by understand- 
 ing each other, notwithstanding the proud reserve of 
 the one and the reluctant submission of the other. 
 
 Feeble and defenceless against the terrible prostra- 
 tions of thought, the poor woman at last gave way 
 under the alternations of hope and despair which in- 
 creased the distress of the loving wife, and the anxieties 
 of the mother trembling for her children. She now 
 practised the doleful silence which formerly chilled her 
 heart, not observing the gloom that pervaded the house, 
 where whole da3's went by in that melancholy parlor 
 without a smile, often without a word. Led b}^ sad 
 maternal foresight, she trained her daughters to house- 
 hold work, and tried to make them skilful in womanly 
 emplo3'ments, that they might have the means of living 
 if destitution came. The outward calm of this quiet 
 home covered terrible agitations. Towards the end of 
 the summer Balthazar had used the money derived from 
 the diamonds, and was twentj^ thousand francs in debt 
 to Messieurs Protez and Chiffreville. 
 
 In August, 1813, about a 3'ear after the scene with 
 which this history begins, although Claes had made a 
 few valuable experiments, for which, unfortunately, he 
 cared but little, his efforts had been without result as to 
 the real object of his researches. There came a day 
 when he ended the whole series of experiments, and the 
 sense of his impotence crushed him ; the certainty of 
 
 9 
 
130 The Alkahest 
 
 having fruitlessly wasted enormous sums of money, 
 drove him to despair. It was a frightful catastrophe. 
 He left the garret, descended slowly to the parlor, and 
 threw himself into a chair in the midst of his children, 
 remaining motionless for some minutes as though dead, 
 making no answer to the questions his wife pressed 
 upon him. Tears came at last to his relief, and he 
 rushed to his own chamber that no one might witness 
 his despair. 
 
 Josephine followed him and drew him into her own 
 room, where, alone with her, Balthazar gave vent to 
 his anguish. These tears of a man, these broken words 
 of the hopeless toiler, these bitter regrets of the husband 
 and father, did Madame Claes more harm than all her 
 past sufferings. The victim consoled the executioner. 
 When Balthazar said to her in a tone of dreadful con- 
 viction : " I am a wretch ; I have gambled away the 
 lives of my children, and your life ; you can have no 
 happiness unless I kill mj^self," — the words struck 
 home to her heart ; she knew her husband's nature 
 enough to fear he might at once act out the despairing 
 wish : an inward convulsion, disturbing the very sources 
 of life itself, seized her, and was all the more dangerous 
 because she controlled its violent effects beneath a de- 
 ceptive calm of manner. 
 
 " My friend," she said, " I have consulted, not Pier- 
 quin, whose friendship does not hinder him from feeling 
 
The Alkahest. 131 
 
 some secret satisfaction at our rain, but an old man 
 who has been as good to me as a father. The Abbe de 
 SoHs, my confessor, has shown me how we can still 
 save ourselves from ruin. He came to see the pictures. 
 The value of those in the gallery is enough to pay the 
 sums you have borrowed on your property, and also all 
 that 3"ou owe to Messieurs Protez and Chiffreville, who 
 have no doubt an account against you." 
 
 Claes made an affirmative sign and bowed his head, 
 the hair of which was now white. 
 
 *' Monsieur de Solis knows the Happe and Duncker 
 families of Amsterdam ; they have a mania for pictures, 
 and are anxious, like all parvenus, to display a luxury 
 which ought to belong only to the old families : he 
 thinks they will pay the full value of ours. By this 
 means we can recover our independence, and out of the 
 purchase money, which will amount to over one hundred 
 thousand ducats, you will have enough to continue the 
 experiments. Your daughters and I will be content 
 with very little ; we can fill up the empty frames with 
 other pictures in course of time and by economy ; 
 meantime you will be happy." 
 
 Balthazar raised his head and looked at his wife with 
 a joy that was mingled with fear. Their roles were 
 changed. The wife was the protector of the husband. 
 He, so tender, he, whose heart was so at one with his 
 Pepita's, now held her in his arms without perceiving the 
 
132 The Alkahest. 
 
 horrible convulsion that made her palpitate, and even 
 shook her hair and her lips with a nervous shudder. 
 
 " I dared not tell you," he said, " that between me 
 and the Unconditioned, the Absolute, scarcely a hair's 
 breadth intervenes. To gasify metals, I only need to 
 find the means of submitting them to intense heat in 
 some centre where the pressure of the atmosphere is 
 nil, — in short, in a vacuum." 
 
 Madame Claes could not endure the egotism of this 
 reply. She expected a passionate acknowledgment of 
 her sacrifices — she received a problem in chemistry ! 
 The poor woman left her husband abruptly and returned 
 to the parlor, where she fell into a chair between her 
 frightened daughters, and burst into tears. Marguerite 
 and Felicie took her hands, kneeling one on each side 
 of her, not knowing the cause of her grief, and asking 
 at intervals, '' Mother, what is it? " 
 
 " My poor children, I am dying ; I feel it." 
 
 The answer struck home to Marguerite's heart ; she 
 saw, for the first time on her mother's face, the signs 
 of that peculiar pallor which only comes on olive-tinted 
 skins. 
 
 *' Martha, Martha!" cried Felicie, *' come quickly; 
 mamma wants you." 
 
 The old duenna ran in from the kitchen, and as soon 
 as she saw the livid hue of the dusky skin usually high- 
 colored, she cried out in Spanish, — 
 
The AlJcahesL 133 
 
 " Body of Christ ! madame is dying ! " 
 
 Then she rushed precipitately back, told Josette to 
 heat water for a footbath, and returned to the parlor. 
 
 " Don't alarm Monsieur Claes ; say nothing to him, 
 Martha," said her mistress. " My poor dear girls," 
 she added, pressing Marguerite and Felicie to her heart 
 with a despairing action; "I wish I could live long 
 enough to see you married and happy. Martha," she 
 continued, ''tell Lemulquinier to go to Monsieur de 
 Sohs and ask him in my name to come here." 
 
 The shock of this attack extended to the kitchen. 
 Josette and Martha, both devoted to Madame Claes 
 and her daughters, felt the blow in their own affections. 
 Martha's dreadful announcement, — "Madame is dy- 
 ing ; monsieur must have killed her ; get ready a 
 mustard-bath," — forced certain exclamations from 
 Josette, which she launched at Lemulquinier. He, cold 
 and impassive, went on eating at the corner of a table 
 before one of the windows of the kitchen, where all was 
 kept as clean as the boudoir of a fine lady. 
 
 " I knew how it would end," said Josette, glancing 
 at the valet and mounting a stool to take down a cop- 
 per kettle that shone like gold. "There's no mother 
 could quietly stand by and see a father amusing himself 
 by chopping up a fortune like his into sausage-meat." 
 
 Josette, whose head was covered by a round cap with 
 crimped borders, which made it look like a German 
 
134 The Alkahest 
 
 nut-cracker, cast a sour look at Lemulquinier, which 
 the greenish tinge of her prominent little ejes made 
 almost venomous. The old valet shrugged his shoulders 
 with a motion worth}^ of Mirabeau when irritated ; then 
 he filled his large mouth with bread and butter sprinkled 
 with chopped onion. 
 
 " Instead of thwarting monsieur, madame ought to 
 give him more money," he said ; " and then we should 
 soon be rich enough to swim in gold. There 's not the 
 thickness of a farthing between us and — " 
 
 " Well, you 've got twenty thousand francs laid by ; 
 why don't you give 'em to monsieur ? he 's your master, 
 and if 30U are so sure of his doings — " 
 
 *' You don't know an^'thing about them, Josette. 
 Mind your pots and pans, and heat the water," re- 
 marked the old Fleming, interrupting the cook. 
 
 " I know enough to know there used to be several 
 thousand ounces of silver-ware about this house which 
 you and your master have melted up ; and if you are 
 allowed to have your way, you'll make ducks and 
 drakes of everything till there 's nothing left." 
 
 " And monsieur," added Martha, entering the kitchen, 
 " will kill madame, just to get rid of a woman who re- 
 strains him and won't let him swallow up everything 
 he 's got. He 's possessed by the devil ; anybody can 
 see that. You don't risk your soul in helping him, 
 Mulquinier, because you haven't got any; look at 
 
The Alkahest, 135 
 
 you ! sitting there like a bit of ice when we are all 
 in such distress ; the j^oung ladies are crying like 
 two Magdalens. Go and fetch Monsieur I'Abbe de 
 Solis." 
 
 *' I've got something to do for monsieur. He told 
 me to put the laboratory in order," said the valet. 
 "Besides, it's too far — go j'ourself" 
 
 *' Just hear the brute ! " cried Martha. " Pray who 
 is to give madame her foot-bath ? do you want her to 
 die? she has got a rush of blood to the head." 
 
 " Mulquinier," said Marguerite, coming into the ser- 
 vants' hall, which adjoined the kitchen, " on your way 
 back from Monsieur de Solis, call at Dr. Pierquin's 
 house and ask him to come here at once." 
 
 " Ha ! you 've got to go now," said Josette. 
 
 *' Mademoiselle, monsieur told me to put the labora- 
 tory in order," said Lemulquinier, facing the two women 
 and looking them down, with a despotic air. 
 
 "Father," said Marguerite, to Monsieur Claes, who 
 was just then descending the stairs, " can you let Mul- 
 quinier do an errand for us in town ? " 
 
 " Now you 're forced to go, you old barbarian ! " cried 
 Martha, as she heard Monsieur Claes put Mulquinier 
 at his daughter's bidding. 
 
 The lack of good-will and devotion shown by the old 
 valet for the family whom he served was a fruitful cause 
 of quarrel between the two women and Lemulquinier, 
 
136 The Alkahest. 
 
 whose cold-heartedness had the effect of increasing the 
 loyal attachment of Josette and the old duenna. 
 
 This dispute, apparently so paltry, was destined to 
 influence the future of the Claes family when, at a later 
 period, they needed succor in misfortune. 
 
The Alkahest 137 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Balthazar was again so absorbed that he did not 
 notice Josephine's condition. He took Jean upon his 
 knee and trotted him mechanically, pondering, no 
 doubt, the problem he now had the means of solving. 
 He saw them bring the footbath to his wife, who was 
 still in the parlor, too weak to rise from the low chair 
 in which she was lying ; he gazed abstractedly at his 
 daughters now attending on their mother, without in- 
 quiring the cause of their tender solicitude. When 
 Marguerite or Jean attempted to speak aloud, Ma- 
 dame Claes hushed them and pointed to Balthazar. 
 Such a scene was of a nature to make a young girl 
 think; and Marguerite, placed as she was between 
 her father and mother, was old enough and sensible 
 enough to weigh their conduct. 
 
 There comes a moment in the private life of every 
 family when the children, voluntaril}^ or involuntarily, 
 judge their parents. Madame Claes foresaw the dan- 
 gers of that moment. Her love for Balthazar impelled 
 her to justify in Marguerite's eyes conduct that might, 
 
138 The Alkahest 
 
 to the upright mind of a girl of sixteen, seem faulty in 
 a father. The ver}^ respect which she showed at this 
 moment for her husband, making herself and her con- 
 dition of no account that nothing might disturb his 
 meditation, impressed her children with a sort of awe 
 of the paternal majesty. Such self-devotion, however 
 infectious it might be, only increased Marguerite's ad- 
 miration for her mother, to whom she was more par- 
 ticularly bound by the close intimacy of their daily lives. 
 This feeling was based on the intuitive perception of 
 sufferings whose causes naturally occupied the young 
 girl's mind. No human power could have hindered 
 some chance word dropped by Martha, or by Josette, 
 from enlightening her as to the real reasons for the 
 condition of her home during the last four years. Not- 
 withstanding Madame Claes's reserve. Marguerite dis- 
 covered slowly, thread by thread, the clue to the 
 domestic drama. She was soon to be her mother's 
 active confidante, and later, under other circumstances, 
 a formidable judge. 
 
 Madame Claes's watchful care now centred upon her 
 eldest daughter, to whom she endeavored to communi- 
 cate her own self-devotion towards Balthazar. The 
 firmness and sound judgment which she recognized in 
 the 5'oung girl made her tremble at the thought of a 
 possible struggle between father and daughter when- 
 ever her own death should make the latter mistress of 
 
The Alkahest. 139 
 
 the household. The poor woman had reached a point 
 where she dreaded the consequences of her death far 
 more than death itself. Her tender solicitude for Bal- 
 thazar showed itself in the resolution she had this day 
 taken. By freeing his property from incumbrance she 
 secured his independence, and prevented all future dis- 
 putes by separating his interests from those of her 
 children. She hoped to see him happy until she closed 
 her eyes on earth, and she studied to transmit the ten- 
 derness of her own heart to that of Marguerite, trusting 
 that his daughter might continue to be to him an angel 
 of love, while exercising over the family a protecting 
 and conservative authority. Might she not thus shed 
 the light of her love upon her dear ones from beyond the 
 grave ? Nevertheless, she was not willing to lower the 
 father in the eyes of his daughter by initiating her 
 into the secret dangers of his scientific passion before 
 it became necessary to do so. She studied Marguerite's 
 soul and character, seeking to discover if the girl's own 
 nature would lead her to be a mother to her brothers 
 and her sister, and a tender, gentle helpmeet to her 
 father. 
 
 Madame Claes's last days were thus embittered by 
 fears and mental disquietudes which she dared not con- 
 fide to others. Conscious that the recent scene had 
 struck her death-blow, she turned her thoughts wholly 
 to the future. Balthazar, meanwhile, now permanentlj^ 
 
140 The Alkahest 
 
 unfitted for the care of property or the interests of do- 
 mestic life, thought only of the Absolute. 
 
 The heavy silence that reigned in the parlor was 
 broken only by the monotonous beating of Balthazar's 
 foot, which he continued to trot, wholly unaware that 
 Jean had slid from his knee. Marguerite, who was 
 sitting beside her mother and watching the changes on 
 that pallid, convulsed face, turned now and again to 
 her father, wondering at his indifference. Presently 
 the street-door clanged, and the family saw the Abbe 
 de Solis leaning on the arm of his nephew and slowly 
 crossing the court-j'ard. 
 
 " Ah ! there is Monsieur Emmanuel," said Felicie. 
 
 " That good young man ! " exclaimed Madame Claes ; 
 *' I am glad to welcome him." 
 
 Marguerite blushed at the praise that escaped her 
 mother's lips. For the last two da3's a remembrance 
 of the young man had stirred mysterious feelings in her 
 heart, and wakened in her mind thoughts that had lain 
 dormant. During the visit made b3^ the Abbe de Solis 
 to Madame Claes on the occasion of his examining the 
 pictures, there happened certain of those imperceptible 
 events which wield so great an influence upon life ; and 
 their results were sufficientlj' important to necessitate a 
 brief sketch of the two personages now first introduced 
 into the history of this family. 
 
 It was a matter of principle with Madame Claes to 
 
The Alkahest. 141 
 
 perforin tlie duties of her religion privately Her con- 
 fessor, who was almost unknown in the family, now 
 entered the house for the second time only ; but there, 
 as elsewhere, every one was impressed with a sort of 
 tender admiration at the aspect of the uncle and his 
 nephew. 
 
 The Abbe de Solis was an octogenarian, with silvery 
 hair, and a withered face from which the vitality seemed 
 to have retreated to the eyes. He walked with diffi- 
 cult}^, for one of his shrunken legs ended in a painfully 
 deformed foot, which was cased in a species of velvet 
 bag, and obliged him to use a crutch when the arm of 
 his nephew was not at hand. His bent figure and de- 
 crepit body conve3'ed the impression of a delicate, suffer- 
 ing nature, governed by a will of iron and the spirit of 
 religious purity. This Spanish priest, who was remark- 
 able for his vast learning, his sincere piet}^, and a wide 
 knowledge of men and things, had been successively a 
 Dominican friar, the grand pemtencier of Toledo, and 
 the vicar-general of the archbishopric of Malines. If 
 the French Revolution had not intervened, the influence 
 of the Casa-Real family would have made him one of 
 the highest dignitaries of the Church ; but the grief he 
 felt for the death of the young duke, Madame Claes's 
 brother, who had been his pupil, turned him from active 
 life, and he now devoted himself to the education of his 
 nephew, who was made an orphan at an early age. 
 
142 . The Alkahest. 
 
 After the conquest of Belgium, the Abbd de Solis 
 settled at Douai to be near Madame Claes. From his 
 youth up he had professed an enthusiasm for Saint 
 Theresa which, together with the natural bent of his 
 mind, led him to. the mystical side of Christianity. 
 Finding in Flanders, where Mademoiselle Bourignon 
 and the writings of the Quietists and lUuminati made 
 the greatest number of proselytes, a flock of Catholics 
 devoted to those ideas, he remained there, — all the 
 more willingly because he was looked up to as a patri- 
 arch b}^^ this particular communion, which continued to 
 follow the doctrines of the Mystics notwithstanding 
 the censures of the Church upon Fenelon and Madame 
 Guy on. His morals were rigid, his life exemplary, and 
 he was believed to have visions. In spite of his own 
 detachment from the things of hfe, his affection for his 
 nephew made him careful of the young man's interests. 
 When a work of charity was to be done, the old abbe 
 put the faithful of his flock under contribution before 
 having recourse to his own means ; and his patriarchal 
 authority was so well established, his motives so pure, 
 his discernment so rarely at fault, that every one was 
 read}^ to answer his appeal. To give an idea of the 
 contrast between the uncle and the nephew, we may 
 compare the old man to a willow on the borders of a 
 stream, hollowed to a skeleton and barely alive, and the 
 young man to a sweet-brier clustering with roses, whose 
 
The Alkahest, 143 
 
 erect and graceful stems spring up about the hoary 
 trunk of the old tree as if they would support it. 
 
 Emmanuel de Solis, rigidly brought up by his uncle, 
 who kept him at his side as a mother keeps her daugh- 
 ter, was full of delicate sensibility', of half-dreamy in- 
 nocence, — those fleeting flowers of youth which bloom 
 perennially in souls that are nourished on religious prin- 
 ciples. The old priest had checked all sensuous emo- 
 tions in his pupil, preparing him for the trials of life by 
 constant study and a discipline that was almost clois- 
 teral. Such an education, which would launch the 
 youth unstained upon the world and render him happj^, 
 provided he were fortunate in his earliest affections, 
 had endowed him with a purit}^ of spirit which gave to 
 his person something of the charm that surrounds a 
 maiden. His modest ej^es, veiling a strong and cou- 
 rageous soul, sent forth a light that vibrated in the 
 soul as the tones of a crystal bell sound their undula- 
 tions on the ear. His face, though regular, was ex- 
 pressive, and charmed the e3'e with its clear-cut outline, 
 the harmony of its lines, and the perfect repose which 
 came of a heart at peace. All was harmonious. His 
 black hair, his brown eyes and e^'ebrows, heightened 
 the effect of a white skin and a brilliant color. His 
 voice was such as might have been expected from his 
 beautiful face; and something feminine in his move- 
 ments accorded well with the 'melody of its tones and 
 
144 The Alkahest. 
 
 with the tender brightness of his eyes. He seemed un- 
 aware of the charm he exercised by his modest silence, 
 the half-melancholy reserve of his manner, and the re- 
 spectful attentions he paid to his uncle. 
 
 Those who saw the 3'oung man as he watched the un- 
 certain steps of the old abbe, and altered his own to suit 
 their devious course, looking for obstructions that might 
 trip his uncle's feet and guiding him to a smoother wa}', 
 could not fail to recognize in Emmanuel de Soils the 
 generous nature which makes the human being a divine 
 creation. There was something noble in the love that 
 never criticised his uncle, in the obedience that never 
 cavilled at the old man's orders ; it seemed as though 
 there were prophecy in the gracious name his godmother 
 had given him. When the abbe gave proof of his Do- 
 minican despotism, in their own home or in the presence 
 of others, Emmanuel would sometimes lift his head with 
 so much dignity, as if to assert his metal should any 
 other man assail him, that men of honor were moved 
 at the sight like artists before a glorious picture ; for 
 noble sentiments ring as loudly in the soul from living 
 incarnations as from the Imagery of art. 
 
 Emmanuel had accompanied his uncle when the latter 
 came to examine the pictures of the House of Claes. 
 Hearing from Martha that the Abbe de Soils was in the 
 gallery, Marguerite, anxious to see so celebrated a man, 
 invented an excuse to join her mother and gratify her 
 
The Alkahest, 145 
 
 curiosity. Entering hastily, with the heedless gayety 
 young girls assume at times to hide their wishes, she 
 encountered near the old abbe, clothed in black and 
 looking decrepit and cadaverous, the fresh, delightful 
 face of a young man. The naive glances of the youth- 
 ful pair expressed their mutual astonishment. Mar- 
 guerite and Emmanuel had no doubt seen each other 
 in their dreams. Both lowered their eyes and raised 
 them again with one impulse ; each, by the action, 
 made the same avowal. Marguerite took her mother's 
 arm, and spoke to her to cover her confusion and find 
 shelter under the maternal wing, turning her neck with 
 a swan-like motion to keep sight of Emmanuel, who 
 still supported his uncle on his arm. The light was 
 cleverly arranged to give due value to the pictures, and 
 the half-obscurity of the gallery encouraged those fur- 
 tive glances which are the joy of timid natures. Neither 
 went so far, even in thought, as the first note of love ; 
 yet both felt the mysterious trouble which stirs the 
 heart, and is jealously kept secret in our youth from 
 fastidiousness or modesty. 
 
 The first impression which forces a sensibility hitherto 
 suppressed to overflow its borders, is followed in all 
 young people by the same half-stupefied amazement 
 which the first sounds of music produce upon a child. 
 Some children laugh and think ; others do not laugh till 
 
 they have thought ; but those whose hearts are called to 
 
 10 
 
146 The Alkahest, 
 
 live bj' poetr}^ or love, listen stilly and hear the melody 
 with a look where pleasure flames alreadj^, and the 
 search for the infinite begins. If, from an irresistible 
 feeling, we love the places where our childhood first 
 perceived the beauties of harmon}', if we remember with 
 delight the musician, and even the instrument, that 
 taught them to us, how much more shall we love the 
 being who reveals to us the music of life? The first 
 heart in which we draw the breath of love, — is it not 
 our home, our native land ? Marguerite and Emmanuel 
 were, each to each, that Voice of music which wakes a 
 sense, that hand which lifts the misty veil, and reveals 
 the distant shores bathed in the fires of noonda}'. 
 
 When Madame Claes paused before a picture by 
 Guido representing an angel. Marguerite bent forward 
 to see the impression it made upon Emmanuel, and 
 Emmanuel looked at Marguerite to compare the mute 
 thought on the canvas with the living thought beside 
 him. This involuntary and delightful homage was un- 
 derstood and treasured. The old abbe gravely praised 
 the picture, and Madame Claes answered him, but the 
 youth and the maiden were silent. 
 
 Such was their first meeting : the mysterious light of 
 the picture gallery, the stillness of the old house, the 
 presence of their elders, all contributed to trace upon 
 their hearts the delicate lines of this vaporous mirage. 
 The man3^ confused thoughts that surged in Marguerite's 
 
The Alkahest. 147 
 
 mind grew calm and lay like a limpid ocean traversed 
 by a luminous ray when Emmanuel murmured a few 
 farewell words to Madame Claes. That voice, whose 
 fresh and mellow tone sent nameless delights into her 
 heart, completed the revelation that had come to her, 
 — a revelation which Emmanuel, were he able, should 
 cherish to his own profit ; for it often happens that the 
 man whom destiny employ's to waken love in the heart 
 of a young girl is ignorant of his work and leaves it 
 unfinished. Marguerite bowed confusedly ; her true 
 farewell was in the glance which seemed unwilling to 
 lose so pure and lovety a vision. Like a child she 
 wanted her melody. Their parting took place at the 
 foot of the old staircase near the parlor; and when 
 Marguerite re-entered the room she watched the uncle 
 and the nephew till the street-door closed upon them. 
 
 Madame Claes had been so occupied with the serious 
 matters which caused her conference with the abbe that 
 she did not on this occasion observe her daughter's 
 manner. When Monsieur de Solis came again to the 
 house on the occasion of her illness, she was too vio- 
 lently agitated to notice the color that rushed into Mar- 
 guerite's face and betrayed the tumult of a virgin heart 
 conscious of its first joy. By the time the old abbe was 
 announced, Marguerite had taken up her sewing and ap- 
 peared to give it such attention that she bowed to the 
 uncle and nephew without looking at them. Monsieur 
 
148 The Alkahest. 
 
 Claes mechanically returned their salutation and left 
 the room with the air of a man called away by his 
 occupations. The good Dominican sat down beside 
 Madame Claes and looked at her with one of those 
 searching glances by which he penetrated the minds of 
 others ; the sight of Monsieur Claes and his wife was 
 enough to make him aware of a catastrophe. 
 
 " My children/* said the mother, " go into the 
 garden ; Marguerite, show Emmanuel your father's 
 tulips.** 
 
 Marguerite, half abashed, took Felicie's arm and 
 looked at the young man, who blushed and caught up 
 little Jean to cover his confusion. When all four were 
 in the garden, FeUcie and Jean ran to the other side, 
 leaving Marguerite, who, conscious that she was alone 
 with young de Solis, led him to the pyramid of tulips, 
 arranged precisely in the same manner year after year 
 by Lemulquinier. 
 
 *' Do you love tulips? '* asked Marguerite, after stand- 
 ing for a moment in deep silence, — a silence Emmanuel 
 seemed little disposed to break. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, these flowers are beautiful, but to 
 love them we must perhaps have a taste for them, and 
 know how to understand their beauties. They da^jzle 
 me. Constant study in the gloomy little chamber in 
 which I live, close to my uncle, makes me prefer those 
 flowers that are softer to the eye." 
 
The Alkahest 149 
 
 Sajing these words he glanced at Marguerite ; but 
 the look, full as it was of confused desires, contained 
 no allusion to the lil}' whiteness, the sweet serenity, the 
 tender coloring which made her face a flower. 
 
 "Do you work ver}^ hard?" she asked, leading him 
 to a wooden seat with a back, painted green. " Here," 
 she continued, "the tulips are not so close; they will 
 not tire your eyes. Yes, 3'ou are right, those colors are 
 dazzling ; they give pain." 
 
 "Do I work hard?" replied the young man after a 
 short silence, as he smoothed the gravel with his foot. 
 "Yes; I work at many things. My uncle wished to 
 make me a priest." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Marguerite, naively. 
 
 "I resisted; I felt no vocation for it. But it re- 
 quired great courage to oppose my uncle's wishes. He 
 is so good, he loves me so much ! Quite recently he 
 bought a substitute to save me from the conscription — 
 me, a poor orphan ! " 
 
 "What do you mean to be?" asked Marguerite; 
 then, immediately checking herself as though she would 
 unsay the words, she added with a pretty gesture, " I 
 beg your pardon ; you must think me very inquisitive." 
 
 "Oh, mademoiselle," said Emmanuel, looking at her 
 with tender admiration, "except my uncle, no one ever 
 asked me that question. I am studying to be a 
 teacher. I cannot do otherwise ; I am not rich. If 
 
160 Tlie Alkahest. 
 
 I were principal of a college-school in Flanders I 
 should earn enough to live moderate!}', and I might 
 marry some simple woman whom I could love. That 
 is the life I look forward to. Perhaps that is why I 
 prefer a daisy in the meadows to these splendid tulips, 
 whose purple and gold and rubies and amethysts be- 
 token a life of luxury, just as the daisy is emblematic 
 of a sweet and patriarchal life, — the life of a poor 
 teacher like me." 
 
 * '' I have always called the daisies marguerites," she 
 said. 
 
 Emmanuel colored deeply and sought an answer 
 from the sand at his feet. Embarrassed to choose 
 among the thoughts that came to him, which he feared 
 were silly, and disconcerted b}^ his delay in answering, 
 he said at last, ' ' I dared not pronounce your name " 
 — then he paused. 
 
 " A teacher? " she said. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I shall be a teacher only as a means 
 of living : I shall undertake great works which will 
 make me nobly useful. I have a strong taste for his- 
 torical researches." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 That '' ah ! " so full of secret thoughts added to his 
 confusion ; he gave a foolish laugh and said : — 
 
 "You make me talk of myself when I ought only 
 to speak of you." 
 
The Alkahest, 151 
 
 ** My mother and your uncle must have finished their 
 conversation, I think," said Marguerite, looking into 
 the parlor through the windows. 
 
 " Your mother seems to me greatly changed," said 
 Emmanuel. 
 
 "' She suffers, but she will not tell us the cause 
 of her sufferings ; and we can only try to share them 
 with her." 
 
 Madame Claes had, in fact, just ended a delicate con- 
 sultation which involved a case of conscience the Abbe 
 de Solis alone could decide. Foreseeing the utter ruin 
 of the familj', she wished to retain, unknown to Bal- 
 thazar who paid no attention to his business affairs, 
 part of the price of the pictures which Monsieur de 
 Solis had undertaken to sell in Holland, intending to 
 hold it secretlj' in reserve against the day when pov- 
 erty should overtake her children. With much delib- 
 eration, and after weighing every circumstance, the old 
 Dominican approved the act as one of prudence. He 
 took his leave to prepare at once for the sale, which he 
 engaged to make secretly, so as not to injure Monsieur 
 Claes in the estimation of others. 
 
 The next day Monsieur de SoUs despatched his nephew, 
 armed with letters of introduction, to Amsterdam, where 
 Emmanuel, delighted to do a service to the Claes family, 
 succeeded in selling all the pictures in the gallery to the 
 noted bankers Happe and Duncker for the ostensible 
 
152 The Alkahest 
 
 sum of eighty-five thousand Dutch ducats and fifteen 
 thousand more which were paid over secretlj^ to Ma- 
 dame Claes. The pictures were so well known that 
 nothing was needed to complete the sale but an answer 
 from Balthazar to the letter which Messieurs Happe 
 and Duncker addressed to him. Emmanuel de Solis 
 was commissioned by Claes to receive the price of 
 the pictures, which were thereupon packed and sent 
 away secretly, to conceal the sale from the people of 
 Douai. 
 
 Towards the end of September, Balthazar paid off all 
 the sums that he had borrowed, released his property 
 from encumbrance, and resumed his chemical researches ; 
 but the House of Claes was deprived of its noblest orna- 
 ment. Blinded by his passion, the master showed no 
 regret ; he felt so sure of repairing the loss that in sell- 
 ing the pictures he reserved a right of redemption. In 
 Josephine's eyes a hundred pictures were as nothing 
 compared to domestic happiness and the satisfaction 
 of her husband's mind ; moreover, she refilled the gal- 
 ler}^ with other paintings, taken from the reception- 
 rooms, and to conceal the gaps which these left in 
 the front house, she changed the arrangement of the 
 furniture. 
 
 When Balthazar's debts were all paid he had about 
 two hundred thousand francs with which to carry on 
 his experiments. The Abb4 de Solis and his nephew 
 
The Alkahest 153 
 
 took charge secretl}^ of the fifteen thousand ducats re- 
 served by Madame Claes. To increase that sum, the 
 abbe sold the Dutch ducats, to which the events of the 
 Continental war had given a commercial value. One 
 hundred and sixty-five thousand francs were buried in 
 the cellar of the house in which the abbe and his nephew 
 resided. 
 
 Madame Claes had the melancholy happiness of see- 
 ing her husband incessantly busy and satisfied for nearlj^ 
 eight months. But the shock he had lately given her 
 was too severe ; she sank into a state of languor and 
 debility which steadily increased. Balthazar was now 
 so complete^ absorbed in science that neither the re- 
 verses which had overtaken France, nor the first fall 
 of Napoleon, nor the return of the Bourbons, drew him 
 from his laboratory; he was neither husband, father, 
 nor citizen, — solely chemist. 
 
 Towards the close of 1814 Madame Claes declined 
 so rapidly that she was no longer able to leave her bed. 
 Unwilling to vegetate in her own chamber, the scene 
 of so much happiness, where the memory of vanished 
 jo3's forced involuntary comparisons with the present 
 and depressed her, she moved into the parlor. The 
 doctors encouraged this wish by declaring the room 
 more airy, more cheerful, and therefore better suited 
 to her condition. The bed in which the unfortunate 
 woman ended her life was placed between the fireplace 
 
154 The Alkahest, 
 
 and a window looking on the garden. There she passed 
 her last daj^s, sacredly occupied in training the souls of 
 her young daughters, striving to leave within them the 
 fire of her own. Conjugal love, deprived of its mani- 
 festations, allowed maternal love to have its way. The 
 mother now seemed the more delightful because her 
 motherhood had blossomed late. Like all generous 
 persons, she passed through sensitive phases of feeling 
 which she mistook for remorse. Believing that she had 
 defrauded her children of the tenderness that should 
 have been theirs, she sought to redeem those imaginary 
 wrongs ; bestowing attentions and tender cares which 
 made her precious to them ; she longed to make her 
 children live, as it were, within her heart ; to shelter 
 them beneath her feeble wings ; to cherish them enough 
 in the few remaining da^'S to redeem the time during 
 which she had neglected them. The sufferings of her 
 mind gave to her words and her caresses a glowing 
 warmth that issued from her soul. Her eyes caressed 
 her children, her voice with its yearning intonations 
 touched their hearts, her hand showered blessings on 
 their heads. 
 
The Alkahest 155 
 
 IX. 
 
 The good people of Douai were not surprised that 
 visitors were no longer received at the House of Claes, 
 and that Balthazar gave no more fetes on the anniver- 
 sary of his marriage. Madame Claes's state of health 
 seemed a suflScient reason for the change, and the 
 paj-ment of her husband's debts put a stop to the cur- 
 rent gossip ; moreover, the political vicissitudes to 
 which Flanders was subjected, the war of the Hundred- 
 days, and the occupation of the AlUed armies, put the 
 chemist and his researches completely out of people's 
 minds. During those two years Douai was so often on 
 the point of being taken, it was so constantly occupied 
 either by the French or by the enemy, so many foreign- 
 ers came there, so many of the country-people sought 
 refuge within its walls, so many lives were in peril, so 
 many catastrophes occurred, that each man thought only 
 of himself. 
 
 The Abbe de Solis and his nephew, and the two 
 Pierquins, doctor and lawyer, were the only persons 
 who now visited Madame Claes ; for whom the winter 
 of 1814-1815 was a long and dreary death-scene. Her 
 
156 The Alkahest, 
 
 husband rarely came to see her. It is true that after 
 dinner he remained some hours in the parlor, near her 
 bed ; but as she no longer had the strength to keep up 
 a conversation, he merely said a few words, invariably 
 the same, sat down, spoke no more, and a dreary 
 silence settled down upon the room. The monotony 
 of this existence was broken only on the days when the 
 Abbe de Solis and his nephew passed the evening with 
 Madame Claes. 
 
 While the abbe played backgammon with Balthazar, 
 Marguerite talked with Emmanuel by the bedside of her 
 mother, who smiled at their innocent joy, not allowing 
 them to see how painful and jQi how soothing to her 
 wounded spirit were the fresh breezes of their virgin love, 
 murmuring in fitful words from heart to heart. The in- 
 flection of their voices, to them so full of charm, to her 
 was heart-breaking ; a glance of mutual understanding 
 surprised between the two threw her, half-dead as she 
 was, back to the young and happy past which gave such 
 bitterness to the present. Emmanuel and Marguerite , 
 with intuitive delicacy of feeling repressed the sweet 
 half-childish play of love, lest it should hurt the saddened 
 woman whose wounds they instinctively divined. 
 
 No one has yet remarked that feelings have an exist- 
 ence of their own, a nature which is developed by the 
 circumstances that environ them, and in which they are 
 born ; they bear a likeness to the places of their growth, 
 
The Alkahest 157 
 
 and keep the imprint of the ideas that influenced their 
 development. There are passions ardently conceived 
 which remain ardent, like that of Madame Claes for her 
 husband: there are sentiments on which all life has 
 smiled ; these retain their spring-time gaj'etj, their 
 harvest-time of jo3% seasons that never fail of laugh- 
 ter or of fetes : but there are other loves, framed in 
 melancholy, circled bj^ distress, whose pleasures are 
 painful, costly, burdened by fears, poisoned by remorse, 
 or blackened b3' despair. The love in the heart of 
 Marguerite and Emmanuel, as 3'et unknown to them 
 for love, the sentiment that budded into life beneath 
 the gloomy arches of the picture-gallery, beside the 
 stern old abbe, in a still and silent moment, that love 
 so grave and so discreet, j^et rich in tender depths, in 
 secret delights that were luscious to the taste as stolen 
 grapes snatched from a corner of the vinej'ard, wore 
 in coming j'ears the sombre browns and grays that 
 surrounded the hour of its birth. 
 
 Fearing to give expression to their feelings beside 
 that bed of pain, thej' unconsciousl}^ increased their 
 happiness b}' a concentration which deepened its im- 
 print on their hearts. The devotion of the daughter, 
 shared bj' Emmanuel, happy in thus uniting himself 
 with Marguerite and becoming by anticipation the son 
 of her mother, was their medium of communication. 
 Melancholy thanks from the lips of the 3'oung girl sup- 
 
158 The Alkahest. 
 
 planted the honeyed language of lovers ; the sighing of 
 their hearts, surcharged with joy at some interchange 
 of looks, was scarcely distinguishable from the sighs 
 wrung from them by the mother's sufferings. Their 
 happy little moments of indirect avowal, of unuttered 
 promises, of smothered effusion, were like the allegories 
 of Raphael painted on a black ground. Each felt a 
 certainty that neither avowed ; they knew the sun was 
 shining over them, but they could not know what wind 
 might chase away the clouds that gathered about their 
 heads. They doubted the future ; fearing that pain 
 would ever follow them, they stayed timidly among the 
 shadows of the twilight, not daring to say to each 
 other, ' ' Shall we end our days together ? " 
 
 The tenderness which Madame Claes now testified 
 for her children nobly concealed much that she en- 
 deavored to hide from herself. Her children caused 
 her neither fear nor passionate emotion : they were her 
 comforters, but they were not her life : she lived by 
 them ; she died through Balthazar. However painful 
 her husband's presence might be to her, lost as he was 
 for hours together in depths of thought from which he 
 looked at her without seeing her, it was only during 
 those cruel moments that she forgot her griefs. His in- 
 difference to the dying woman would have seemed crim- 
 inal to a stranger, but Madame Claes and her daughters 
 were accustomed to it ; they knew his heart and they 
 
The Alkahest, 159 
 
 forgave him. If, during the daytime, Josephine was 
 seized by some sudden illness, if she were worse and 
 seemed near djing, Claes was the only person in the 
 house or in the town who remained ignorant of it. 
 Lemulquinier knew it, but neither the daughters, bound 
 to silence by their mother, nor Josephine herself let 
 Balthazar know the danger of the being he had once 
 so passionately loved. 
 
 When his heavy step sounded in the gallery as he 
 came to dinner, Madame Claes was happj^ — she was 
 about to see him ! and she gathered up her strength for 
 that happiness. As he entered, the pallid face blushed 
 brighth^ and recovered for an instant the semblance of 
 health. Balthazar came to her bedside, took her hand, 
 saw the misleading color on her cheek, and to him she 
 seemed well. When he asked, " My dear wife, how 
 are you to-day?" she answered, "Better, dear friend," 
 and made him think she would be up and recovered 
 on the morrow. His preoccupation was so great that he 
 accepted this reply, and believed the illness of which 
 his wife was dying a mere indisposition. Dying to the 
 eyes of the world, in his alone she was living. 
 
 A complete separation between husband and wife 
 was the result of this year. Claes slept in a distant 
 chamber, got up early in the morning, and shut himself 
 into his laboratory or his study. Seeing his wife only 
 in presence of his daughters or of the two or three 
 
160 The Alkahest. 
 
 friends who came to visit them, he lost the habit of 
 communicating with her. These two beings, formerly 
 accustomed to think as one, no longer, unless at rare 
 intervals, enjoyed those moments of communion, of 
 passionate unreserve which feed the life of the heart; 
 and finally there came a time when even these rare 
 pleasures ceased. Physical suffering was now a boon to 
 the poor woman, helping her to endure the void of sep- 
 aration, which might have killed her had she been truly 
 living. Her bodily pain became so great that there were 
 times when she was joyful in the thought that he whom 
 she loved was not a witness of it. She lay watching 
 Balthazar in the evening hours, and knowing him happy 
 in his own way, she lived in the happiness she had pro- 
 cured for him, — a shadow}^ joy, and yet it satisfied her. 
 She no longer asked herself if she were loved, she forced 
 herself to believe it ; and she glided over that icy surface, 
 not daring to rest her weight upon it lest it should break 
 and drown her soul in a gulf of awful nothingness. 
 
 No events stirred the calm of this existence ; the 
 mlalady that was slowty consuming Madame Claes 
 added to the household stillness, and in this condition 
 of paSK^ive gloom the House of Claes reached the first 
 weeks of the year 1816. Pierquin, the law3'er, was 
 destined, at the close of February, to strike the death- 
 blow of the angelic woman who, in the words of the 
 Abbe de Solis, was wellnigh without sin. 
 
The Alkahest. 161 
 
 '' Madame," said Pierquin, seizing a moment when 
 her daughters could not hear the conversation, " Mon- 
 sieur Claes has directed me to borrow three hundred 
 thousand francs on his property. You must do some- 
 thing to protect the future of j'our children." 
 
 Madame Claes clasped her hands and raised her ejes 
 to the ceiling ; then she thanked the notary with a sad 
 smile and a kindly motion of her head which affected 
 him. 
 
 His words were the stab that killed her. During 
 that day she had yielded herself up to sad reflections 
 which swelled her heart; she was like the wayfarer 
 walking beside a precipice who loses his balance and 
 a mere pebble rolls him to the depth of the abyss he 
 has so long and so courageously skirted. When the 
 notary left her, Madame Claes told Marguerite to bring 
 writing materials ; then she gathered up her remaining 
 strength to write her last wishes. Several times she 
 paused and looked at her daughter. The hour of con- 
 fidence had come. 
 
 Marguerite's management of the household since her 
 mother's illness had so amply fulfilled the dying 
 woman's hopes that Madame Claes was able to look 
 upon the future of the family without absolute despair, 
 confident that she herself would live again in this strong 
 and loving angel. Both women felt, no doubt, that sad 
 and mutual confidences must be now made between 
 
 JL^ Of th{ . 
 UNlVERsixY 
 
 ;£!^/FbRNiA. 
 
162 The Alkahest 
 
 them ; the daughter looked at the mother, the mother 
 at the daughter, tears flowing from their eyes. Several 
 times, as Madame Claes rested from her writing, Mar- 
 guerite said : " Mother?" then she stopped as if chok- 
 ing ; but the mother, occupied with her last thoughts, 
 did not ask the meaning of the interrogation. At last, 
 Madame Claes wished to seal the letter ; Marguerite 
 held the taper, turning aside her head that she might 
 not see the superscription. 
 
 " You can read it, my child," said the mother, in a 
 heart-rending voice. 
 
 The young girl read the words, "To my daughter 
 Marguerite." 
 
 " We will talk to each other after I have rested 
 awhile," said Madame Claes, putting the letter under 
 her pillow. 
 
 Then she fell back as if exhausted by the effort, and 
 slept for several hours. When she woke, her two 
 daughters and her two sons were kneeling by her bed 
 and praying. It was Thursday. Gabriel and Jean had 
 been brought from school by Emmanuel de Solis, who 
 for the last six months was professor of history and 
 philosophy. 
 
 " Dear children, we must part!" she cried. "You 
 have never forsaken me, never! and he who — " 
 
 She stopped. 
 
 " Monsieur Emmanuel," said Marguerite, seeing the 
 
The Alkahest. 163 
 
 pallor on her mother's face, " go to my father, and tell 
 him mamma is worse." 
 
 Young de Soils went to the door of the laboratory 
 and persuaded Lemulquinier to make Balthazar come 
 and speak to him. On hearing the urgent request of 
 the young man, Claes answered, " I will come." 
 
 " Emmanuel," said Madame Claes when he returned 
 to her, " take my sons away, and bring yom uncle here. 
 It is time to give me the last sacraments, and I wish to 
 receive them from his hand." 
 
 When she was alone with her daughters she made a 
 sign to Marguerite, who understood her and sent Felicie 
 away. 
 
 '' I have something to say to you myself, dear mam- 
 ma," said Marguerite who, not believing her mother so 
 ill as she really was, increased the wound Pierquin had 
 given. *' I have had no money for the household ex- 
 penses during the last ten days ; I owe six months' 
 wages to the servants. Twice I have tried to ask my 
 father for money, but did not dare to do so. You don't 
 know, perhaps, that all the pictures in the gallery have 
 been sold, and all the wines in the cellar ? " 
 
 "He never told me!" exclaimed Madame Claes. 
 "My God! thou callest me to thyself in time! My 
 poor children ! what will become of them ? " 
 
 She made a ferv^ent prayer, which brought the fires 
 of repentance to her eyes. 
 
164 The AlkaJiBst. 
 
 " Marguerite," she resumed, drawing the letter from 
 her pillow, "here is a paper which 3^ou must not open 
 or read until a time, after my death, when some great 
 disaster has overtaken you; when, in short, you are 
 without the means of living. My dear Marguerite, love 
 your father, but take care of your brothers and your 
 sister. In a few days, in a few hours perhaps, you will 
 be the head of this household. Be economical. Should 
 you find 3'ourself opposed to the wishes of your father, 
 
 — and it may so happen, because he has spent vast 
 sums in searching for a secret whose discovery is to 
 bring glor}- and wealth to his family, and he will no 
 doubt need money, perhaps he may demand it of you, — 
 should that time come, treat him with the tenderness of 
 a daughter, strive to reconcile the interests of which 3'ou 
 will be the sole protector with the dut}" which you owe to 
 a father, to a great man who has sacrificed his happiness 
 and his life to the glory of his family ; he can only do 
 wrong in act, his intentions are noble, his heart is full of 
 love ; 3^ou will see him once more kind and affectionate 
 
 — You ! Marguerite, it is my duty to say these words to 
 3'ou on the borders of the grave. If you wish to soften 
 the anguish of m^' death, promise me, my child, to take 
 my place beside j^our father; to cause him no grief; 
 never to reproach him ; never to condemn him. Be a 
 gentle, considerate guardian of the home until — his work 
 accomplished — he is again the master of his family." 
 
The Alkahest, 1G5 
 
 "I understand you, dear mother," said Marguerite, 
 kissing the swollen ej^elids of the dying woman. "I 
 will do as you wish." 
 
 '' Do not marry, my darling, until Gabriel can succeed 
 you in the management of the property and the house- 
 hold. If you married, your husband might not share 
 your feelings, he might bring trouble into the family 
 and disturb your father's life." 
 
 Marguerite looked at her mother and said, " Have 
 you nothing else to say to me about my marriage ? " 
 
 "Can you hesitate, my child?" cried the dying 
 woman in alarm. 
 
 " No," the daughter answered ; " I promise to obey 
 you." 
 
 ** Poor girl ! I did not sacrifice myself for you," said 
 the mother, shedding hot tears. "Yet I ask you to sac- 
 rifice yourself for all. Happiness makes us selfish. Yes, 
 Marguerite, I have been weak because I was happy. Be 
 strong ; preserve your own good sense to guard others 
 who as 3'et have none. Act so that your brothers and 
 your sister may not reproach my memory. Love your 
 father, and do not oppose him — too much." 
 
 She laid her head on her pillow and said no more ; 
 her strength was gone ; the inward struggle between 
 the Wife and the Mother had been too violent. 
 
 A few moments later the clergy came, preceded by 
 the Abbe de Solis, and the parlor was filled by the 
 
166 The Alkahest 
 
 children and the household. When the ceremony was 
 about to begin, Madame Claes, awakened by her con- 
 fessor, looked about her and not seeing Balthazar said 
 quickly, — 
 
 " Where is my husband? " 
 
 The words — summing up, as it were, her life and 
 her death — were uttered in such lamentable tones that 
 all present shuddered. Martha, in spite of her great 
 age, darted out of the room, ran up the staircase and 
 through the gallery, and knocked loudly on the door of 
 the laboratory. 
 
 *' Monsieur, madame is dying ; they are waiting for 
 you, to administer the last sacraments," she cried with 
 the violence of indignation. 
 
 " I am coming," answered Balthazar. 
 
 Lemulquinier came down a moment later, and said 
 his master was following him. Madame Claes's ej^es 
 never left the parlor door, but her husband did not ap- 
 pear until the ceremony was over. When at last he 
 entered, Josephine colored and a few tears roUed down 
 her cheeks. 
 
 "Were you trying to decompose nitrogen?" she 
 said to him with an angelic tenderness which made the 
 spectators quiver. 
 
 '' I have done it ! " he cried joyfully ; '* Nitrogen con- 
 tains oxj'gen and a substance of the nature of imponder- 
 able matter, which is apparently the principle of — " 
 
Tlie Alkahest, 167 
 
 A munnur of horror interrupted his words and brought 
 him to his senses. 
 
 "What did they tell me?" he demanded. "Are 
 3'ou worse ? What is the matter ? " 
 
 " This is the matter, monsieur," whispered the Abbe • 
 de Solis, indignant at his conduct ; " your wife is dying, 
 and you have killed her." 
 
 Without waiting for an answer the abbe took the arm 
 of his nephew and went out followed by the family, who 
 accompanied him to the court-yard. Balthazar stood as 
 if thunderstruck ; he looked at his wife, and a few tears 
 dropped from his eyes. 
 
 "You are dying, and I have killed you!" he said. 
 " What does he mean? " 
 
 " My husband," she answered, " I only lived in your 
 love, and you have taken my life away from me ; but 
 you knew not what you did." 
 
 " Leave us," said Claes to his children, who now re- 
 entered the room. " Have I for one moment ceased to 
 love you?" he went on, sitting down beside his wife, 
 and taking her hands and kissing them. 
 
 " My friend, I do not blame you. You made me 
 happy — too happy, for I have not been able to bear 
 the contrast between our early married life, so full of 
 joy, and these last days, so desolate, so empty, when 
 3'ou are not yourself. The life of the heart, like the 
 life of the body, has its functions. For six years you 
 
163 The Alkahest. 
 
 have been dead to love, to the famil}-, to all that was 
 once our happiness. I will not speak of our early mar- 
 ried days ; such joj's must cease in the after-time of life, 
 but they ripen into fruits which feed the soul, — confi- 
 dence unlimited, the tender habits of affection : you have 
 torn those treasures from me ! I go in time : we live 
 together no longer ; you hide your thoughts and actions 
 from me. How is it that you fear me? Have I ever 
 given you one word, one look, one gesture of reproach ? 
 And yet, you have sold 3^our last pictures, you have sold 
 even the wine in your cellar, 3^ou are borrowing money 
 on your property, and have said no word to me. Ah I 
 I go from life weary of life. If you are doing wrong, 
 if you delude yourself in following the unattainable, 
 have I not shown you that my love could share your 
 faults, could walk beside you and be happy, though 
 you led me in the paths of crime ? You loved me too 
 well, — that was my glory ; it is now my death. Bal- 
 thazar, mj illness has lasted long ; it began on the day 
 when here, in this place where I am about to die, you 
 showed me that Science was more to you than Famil3\ 
 And now the end has come ; your wife is dying, and 
 your fortune lost. Fortune and wife were yours, — 
 you could do what you willed with your own ; but on 
 the day of my death my propert}' goes to my children, 
 and you cannot touch it ; what will then become of you ? 
 I am telling you the truth; I owe it to you. Dying 
 
Tlie Alkahest 169 
 
 ej^es see far : when I am gone will anything outweigh 
 that cursed passion which is now 3'our Ufe ? If you have 
 sacrificed your wife, your children will count but little 
 in the scale ; for I must be just and own you loved me 
 above all. Two millions and six years of toil you have 
 cast into the gulf, — and what have you found ? ** 
 
 At these words Claes grasped his whitened head in 
 his hands and hid his face. 
 
 *' Humiliation for yourself, miser}- for your children," 
 continued the dying woman. *' You are called in de- 
 rision ' Claes the alchemist ; ' soon it will be * Claes the 
 madman.' For myself, I believe in you. I know jou 
 great and wise ; I know 3-our genius : but to the vulgar 
 e3'e genius is mania. Fame is a sun that lights the 
 dead ; living, 3'ou will be unhappy with the unhappiness 
 of great minds, and ^'our children will be ruined. I go 
 before I see your fame, which might have brought me 
 consolation for my lost happiness. Oh, Balthazar! 
 make my death less bitter to me, let me be certain that 
 my children will not want for bread — Ah, nothing, 
 nothing, not even 3'ou, can calm m3' fears." 
 
 " I swear," said Claes, "to — " 
 
 *' No, do not swear, that you may not fail of 3'our 
 oath," she said, interrupting him. " You owed us your 
 protection ; we have been without it seven years. Sci- 
 ence is 3'our life. A great man should have neither 
 wife nor children ; he should tread alone the path of 
 
170 The Alkahest 
 
 sacrifice. His virtues are not the virtues of common 
 men ; he belongs to the universe, he cannot belong to 
 wife or famih^ ; he sucks up the moisture of the earth 
 about him, like a majestic tree — and I, poor plant, I 
 could not rise to the height of 3'our life, I die at its 
 feet. I have waited for this last day to tell 3'ou these 
 dreadful thoughts : they came to me in the lightnings of 
 desolation and anguish. Oh, spare my children ! let 
 these words echo in your heart. I cry them to j^ou with 
 my. last breath. The wife is dead, dead ; you have 
 stripped her slowly, gradually, of her feehngs, of her 
 joys. Alas ! without that cruel care could I have lived 
 so long? But those poor children did not forsake me ! 
 they have grown beside my anguish, the mother still 
 survives. Spare them ! Spare my children ! " 
 
 *' Lemulquinier ! " cried Claes in a voice of thunder. 
 
 The old man appeared. 
 
 "Go up and destroy all — instruments, apparatus, 
 everything ! Be careful, but destroy all. I renounce 
 Science," he said to his wife. 
 
 " Too late," she answered, looking at Lemulquinier. 
 " Marguerite ! " she cried, feeling herself about to die. 
 
 Marguerite came through the doorwa}^ and uttered a 
 piercing cry as she saw her mother's eyes now glazing. 
 
 *' Marguerite ! " repeated the dying woman. 
 
 The exclamation contained so powerful an appeal 
 to her daughter, she invested that appeal with such 
 
The Alkahest. 171 
 
 authority, that the cry was like a dying bequest. The 
 terrified family ran to her side and saw her die ; the 
 vital forces were exhausted in that last conversation 
 with her husband. 
 
 Balthazar and Marguerite stood motionless, she at 
 the head, he at the foot of the bed, unable to believe in 
 the death of the woman whose virtues and exhaustless 
 tenderness were known fulty to them alone. Father and 
 daughter exchanged looks freighted with meaning : the 
 daughter judged the father, and already the father 
 trembled, foreseeing in his daughter an instrument of 
 vengeance. Though memories of the love with which 
 his Pepita had filled his life crowded upon his mind, 
 and gave to her d^ing words a sacred authority whose 
 voice his soul must ever hear, yet Balthazar knew him- 
 self helpless in the grasp of his attendant genius ; he 
 heard the terrible mutterings of his passion, denying 
 him the strength to carry his repentance into action: 
 he feared himself. 
 
 When the grave had closed upon Madame Claes, one 
 thought filled the minds of all, — the house had had a 
 soul, and that soul was now departed. The grief of the 
 family was so intense that the parlor, where the noble 
 ■woman still seemed to linger, was closed; no one had 
 the courage to enter it. 
 
172 The Alkahest 
 
 Society practises none of the virtues it demands from 
 individuals: every hour it commits crimes, but the 
 crimes are committed in words ; it paves the way for 
 evil actions with a jest; it degrades nobilit}' of soul 
 by ridicule ; it jeers at sons who mourn their fathers, 
 anathematizes those who do not mourn them enough, 
 and finds diversion (the hypocrite !) in weighing the 
 dead bodies before they are cold. 
 
 The evening of the day on which Madame Claes died, 
 her friends cast a few flowers upon her memory in the 
 intervals of their games of whist, doing homage to her 
 noble qualities as they sorted their hearts and spades. 
 Then, after a few lachr3'mal phrases, — the fi, fo, fum 
 of collective grief, uttered in precisely the same tone, 
 and with neither more nor less of feeling, at all hours 
 and in every town in France, — they proceeded to esti- 
 mate the value of her property. Pierquin was the first 
 to observe that the death of this excellent woman was 
 a mercy, for her husband had made her unhappy ; and 
 it was even more fortunate for her children : she was 
 unable while living to refuse her money to the husband 
 
The Alkahest, 173 
 
 she adored ; but now that she was dead, Claes was de- 
 barred from touching it. Thereupon all present calcu- 
 lated the fortune of that poor Madame Claes, wondered 
 how much she had laid by (had she, in fact, laid hy 
 an^'thing?), made an inventory of her jewels, rummaged 
 in her wardrobe, peeped into her drawers, while the 
 afflicted family were still weeping and praying around 
 her death-bed. 
 
 Pierquin, with an appraising eye, stated that Madame 
 Claes's possessions in her own right — to use the no- 
 tarial phrase — might still be recovered, and ought 
 to amount to nearly a million and a half of francs ; 
 basing this estimate partly on the forest of Waignies, — 
 whose timber, counting the full-grown trees, the sap- 
 lings, the primeval growths, and the recent plantations, 
 had immensely increased in value during the last twelve 
 years, — and parti}' on Balthazar's own propert}^, of 
 which enough remained to " cover" the claims of his 
 children, if the liquidation of their mother's fortune did 
 not yield sufficient to release him. Mademoiselle Claes 
 was still, inPierquin's slang, "a four-hundred-thousand- 
 franc girl." " But," he added, *' if she does n't marry, 
 — a step which would of course separate her interests 
 and permit us to sell the forest at auction, and so real- 
 ize the property of the minor children and reinvest 
 it where the father can't lay hands on it, — Claes is 
 likely to ruin them all." 
 
174 The Alkahest. 
 
 Thereupon, ever^'body looked about for some eligible 
 3^oung man worthy to win the hand of Mademoiselle 
 Claes ; but none of them paid the lawyer the compliment 
 of suggesting that he might be the man. Pierquin, how- 
 ever, found so many good reasons to reject the suggested 
 matches as unworthy of Marguerite's position, that the 
 confabulators glanced at each other and smiled, and 
 took malicious pleasure in prolonging this truly pro- 
 vincial method of annoyance. Pierquin had already 
 decided that Madame Claes's death would have a favor- 
 able effect upon his suit, and he began mentally to cut 
 up the body in his own interests. 
 
 " That good woman," he said to himself as he went 
 home to bed, '•• was as proud as a peacock ; she would 
 never have given me her daughter. Hey, hey ! why 
 could n't I manage matters now so as to marry the girl ? 
 Pere Claes is drunk on carbon, and takes no care of his 
 children. If, after convincing Marguerite that she must 
 marry to save the property of her brothers and sister, 
 I were to ask him for his daughter, he will be glad to 
 get rid of a girl who is likely to thwart him." 
 
 He went to sleep anticipating the charms of the mar- 
 riage contract, and reflecting on the advantages of the 
 step and the guarantees afforded for his happiness in 
 the person he proposed to marry. In all the provinces 
 there was certainly not a better brought-up or more del- 
 icately lovely 3"0ung girl than Mademoiselle Claes. Her 
 
The Alkahest, 175 
 
 modesty, her grace, were like those of the pretty flower 
 Emmanuel had feared to name lest he should betray 
 the secret of his heart. Her sentiments were lofty, her 
 principles religious, she would undoubtedly make him a 
 a faithful wife : moreover, she not only flattered the 
 vanity which influences every man more or less in the 
 choice of a wife, but she gratified his pride by the high 
 consideration which her family, doubly ennobled, en- 
 joyed in Flanders, — a consideration which her hus- 
 band of course would share. 
 
 The next day Pierquin extracted from his strong-box 
 several thousand-franc notes, which he offered with 
 great friendliness to Balthazar, so as to relieve him of 
 pecuniary annoyance in the midst of his grief. Touched 
 by this delicate attention, Balthazar would, he thought, 
 praise his goodness and his personal qualities to Mar- 
 guerite. In this he was mistaken. Monsieur Claes 
 and his daughter thought it was a very natural action, 
 and their sorrow was too absorbing to let them even 
 think of the lawyer. 
 
 Balthazar's despair was indeed so great that persons 
 who were disposed to blame his conduct could not do 
 otherwise than forgive him, — less on account of the Sci- 
 ence which might have excused him, than for the re- 
 morse which could not undo his deeds. Society is 
 satisfied by appearances : it takes what it gives, with- 
 out considering the intrinsic worth of the article. To 
 
176 The Alkahest. 
 
 the world real suffering is a show, a species of enjoy- 
 ment, which inchnes it to absolve even a criminal ; in 
 its thirst for emotions it acquits without judging the 
 man who raises a laugh, or he who makes it weep, 
 making no inquiry into their methods. 
 
 Marguerite was just nineteen when her father put her 
 in charge of the household ; and her brothers and sister, 
 whom Madame Claes in her last moments exhorted to 
 obey their elder sister, accepted her authority with do- 
 cilit}^ Her mourning attire heightened the dewy white- 
 ness of her skin, just as the sadness of her expression 
 threw into relief the gentleness and patience of her 
 manner. From the first she gave proofs of feminine 
 courage, of inalterable serenity, like that of angels ap- 
 pointed to shed peace on suffering hearts by a touch 
 of their waving palms. But although she trained her- 
 self, through a premature perception of duty, to hide 
 her personal grief, it was none the less bitter ; her calm 
 exterior was not in keeping with the deep trouble of her 
 thoughts, and she was destined to undergo, too early in 
 life, those terrible outbursts of feeling which no heart is 
 able wholly to subdue : her father was to hold her in- 
 cessantly under the pressure of natural youthful gen- 
 erosity on the one hand, and the dictates of imperious 
 duty on the other. The cares which came upon her the 
 very day of her mother's death threw her into a struggle 
 with the interests of life at an age when young girls are 
 
The Alkahest. 177 
 
 thinking only of its pleasures. Dreadful discipline of 
 suffering, which is never lacking to angelic natures ! 
 
 The love which rests on money or on vanity is the 
 most persevering of passions. Pierquin resolved to 
 win the heiress without delay. A few days after Ma- 
 dame Claes's death he took occasion to speak to Mar- 
 guerite, and began operations with a cleverness which 
 might have succeeded if love had not given her the 
 power of clear insight and saved her from mistaking 
 appearances that were all the more specious because 
 Pierquin displayed his natural kindheartedness, — the 
 kindliness of a notary who thinks himself loving while 
 be protects a client's money. Reljing on his rather 
 distant relationship and his constant habit of managing 
 the business and sharing the secrets of the Claes family, 
 sure of the esteem and friendship of the father, greatly 
 assisted by the careless inattention of that servant of 
 science who took no thought for the marriage of his 
 daughter, and not suspecting that Marguerite could 
 prefer another, — Pierquin unguardedly enabled her to 
 form a judgment on a suit in which there was no passion 
 except that of self-interest, always odious to a young 
 soul, and which he was not clever enough to conceal. 
 It was he who on this occasion was naively above- 
 board, it was she who dissimulated, — simply because 
 he thought he was dealing with a defenceless girl, and 
 wholly misconceived the privileges of weakness. 
 
 12 
 
178 The Alkahest 
 
 " My dear cousin/* he said to Marguerite, with whom 
 he was walking about the paths of the little garden, 
 ''you know my heart, you understand how truly I 
 desire to respect the painful feelings which absorb you 
 at this moment. I have too sensitive a nature for a 
 lawyer ; I live by my heart only, I am forced to spend 
 my time on the interests of others when I would fain let 
 myself enjoy the sweet emotions which make life happ3% 
 I suffer deeply in being obliged to talk to you of sub- 
 jects so discordant with your state of mind, but it i$ 
 necessary. I have thought much about joxi during the 
 last few days. It is evident that through a fatal delu- 
 sion the fortune of j^our brothers and sister and your 
 own are in jeopardy. Do you wish to save your family 
 from complete ruin ? " 
 
 *'What must I do?'' she asked, half-frightened by 
 his words. 
 
 *' Marry," answered Pierquin. 
 
 " I shall not marry," she said. 
 
 " Yes, you will marry," replied the notary, " when 
 you have soberly thought over the critical position in 
 which you are placed." 
 
 *' How can my marriage save — " 
 
 '' Ah ! I knew you would consider it, my dear cousin," 
 he exclaimed, interrupting her, '^ Marriage will eman- 
 cipate you." 
 
 '' Why should I be emancipated ? " asked Marguerite. 
 
The Alkahest. 179 
 
 "Because marriage will put you at once into pos- 
 session of your property, my dear little cousin," said 
 the lawyer in a tone of triumph. '' If you marrj^ you 
 take your share of your mother's property. To give it 
 to 3'ou, the whole property must be liquidated ; to do 
 that, it becomes necessary to sell the forest of Waignies. 
 That done, the proceeds will be capitalized, and your 
 father, as guardian, will be compelled to invest the for- 
 tune of his children in such a way that Chemistry can't 
 get hold of it." 
 
 ''And if I do not marry, what will happen?" she 
 asked. 
 
 ''Well," said the notary, "your father will manage 
 your estate as he pleases. If he returns to making 
 gold, he will probably sell the timber of the forest of 
 Waignies and leave his children as naked as the little 
 Saint Johns. The forest is now worth about fourteen 
 hundred thousand francs ; but from one day to another 
 you are not sure your father won't cut it down, and 
 then your thirteen hundred acres are not worth three 
 hundred thousand francs. Is n't it better to avoid this 
 almost certain danger by at once compelling the divi- 
 sion of property on your marriage? If the forest is 
 sold now, while Chemistry has gone to sleep, your 
 father will put the proceeds on the Grand-Livre. The 
 Funds are at 59 ; those dear children will get nearly 
 five thousand francs a year for every fifty thousand 
 
180 The Alkahest 
 
 francs : and, inasmuch as the property of minors 
 cannot be sold out, j^our brothers and sister will 
 find their fortunes doubled in value by the time they 
 come of age. Whereas, in the other case, — faith, 
 no one knows what may happen : your father has 
 alread}^ impaired your mother's property ; we shall 
 find out the deficit when we come to make the inven- 
 tory. If he is in debt to her estate, you will take a 
 mortgage on his, and in that way something may be 
 recovered — " 
 
 " For shame ! " said Marguerite. *' It would be an 
 outrage on my father. It is not so long since my 
 mother uttered her last words that I have forgotten 
 them. My father is incapable of robbing his children," 
 she continued, giving way to tears of distress. "You 
 misunderstand him. Monsieur Pierquin." 
 
 " But, my dear cousin, if 3'our father gets back to 
 chemistry — " 
 
 " We are ruined ; is that what you mean? " 
 
 "Yes, utterly ruined. Believe me, Marguerite," he 
 said, taking her hand which he placed upon his heart, 
 " I should fail of my duty if I did not persist in this 
 matter. Your interests alone — " 
 
 "Monsieur," said Marguerite, coldly withdrawing 
 her hand, " the true interests of my family require me 
 not to marry. M}^ mother thought so." 
 
 * ' Cousin," he cried, with the earnestness of a man 
 
The Alkahest. 181 
 
 who sees a fortune escaping him, "you commit sui- 
 cide ; 3'ou fling your mother's property into a gulf. 
 Well, I will prove the devotion I feel for you: you 
 know not how I love you. I have admired 3'ou from 
 the day of that last ball, three years ago ; 3'OU were 
 enchanting. Trust the voice of love when it speaks to 
 you of your own interests. Marguerite." He paused. 
 "Yes, we must call a famil}^ council and emancipate 
 3'ou — without consulting you," he added. 
 
 " But what is it to be emancipated? " 
 
 " It is to enjoy your own rights." 
 
 " If I can be emancipated without being married, 
 why do you want me to marry? and whom should I 
 marry ? " 
 
 Pierquin tried to look tenderly at his cousin, but the 
 expression contrasted so strongly with his hard eyes, 
 usually fixed on money, that Marguerite discovered the 
 self-interest in his improvised tenderness. 
 
 " You would marry the person who — pleases 3'Ou — 
 the most," he said. "A husband is indispensable, 
 were it only as a matter of business. You are now 
 entering upon a struggle with your father; can you 
 resist him all alone?" 
 
 "Yes, monsieur; I shall know how to protect my 
 brothers and sister when the time comes." 
 
 "Pshaw! the obstinate creature," thought Pierquin. 
 " No, you will not resist him," he said aloud. 
 
182 The Alkahest, 
 
 ** Let us end the subject," she said. 
 
 "Adieu, cousin, I shall endeavor to serve you in 
 spite of yourself; I will prove my love by protecting 
 you against your will from a disaster which all the town 
 foresees." 
 
 " I thank you for the interest you take in me," she 
 answered ; " but I entreat you to propose nothing and 
 to undertake nothing which may give pain to my 
 father." 
 
 Marguerite stood though tfullj^ watching Pierquin as 
 he departed ; she compared his metallic voice, his 
 manners, flexible as a steel spring, his glance, ser- 
 vile rather than tender, with the mute melodious 
 poetrj'^ in which Emmanuel's sentiments were wrapped. 
 No matter what may be said, or what may be done, 
 there exists a wonderful magnetism whose eflects 
 never deceive. The tones of the voice, the glance, 
 the passionate gestures of a lover may be imitated ; 
 a young girl can be deluded by a clever comedian ; 
 but to succeed, the man must be alone in the field. 
 If the young girl has another soul beside her whose 
 pulses vibrate in unison with hers, she is able to dis- 
 tinguish the expressions of a true love. Emmanuel, 
 like Marguerite, felt the influence of the clouds which, 
 from the time of their first meeting had gathered omi- 
 nously about their heads, hiding from their eyes the 
 blue skies of love. His feeling for the Elect of his 
 
The AlJcahest. 183 
 
 heart was an idolatry which the total absence of hope 
 rendered gentle and mysterious in its manifestations. 
 Socially too far removed from Mademoiselle Claes by 
 his want of fortune, with nothing but a noble name to 
 offer her, he saw no chance of ever being her husband. 
 Yet he had always hoped for certain encouragements 
 which Marguerite refused to give before the failing eyes 
 of her d3'ing mother. Both equally pure, they had 
 never said to one another a word of love. Their joj'S 
 were solitary joys tasted bj^ each alone. They trembled 
 apart, though together they quivered beneath the rays 
 of the same hope. They seemed to fear themselves, 
 conscious that each only too surely belonged to the 
 other. Emmanuel trembled lest he should touch the 
 hand of the sovereign to whom he had made a shrine 
 in his heart ; a chance contact would have roused hopes 
 that were too ardent, he could not then have masterecj 
 the force of his passion. And yet, while neither be- 
 stowed the vast, though trivial, the innocent and yet 
 all-meaning signs of love that even timid lovers allow 
 themselves, tbey were so firmly fixed in each other's 
 hearts that both were ready to make the greatest sacri- 
 fices, which were, indeed, the only pleasures their love 
 could expect to taste. 
 
 Since Madame Claes's death this hidden love was 
 shrouded in mourning. The tints of the sphere in which 
 it lived, dark and dim from the first, w^rq now black ; 
 
184 - The Alkahest, 
 
 the few lights were veiled by tears. Marguerite's reserve 
 changed to coldness ; she remembered the promise ex- 
 acted by her mother. With more freedom of action, she 
 nevertheless became more distant. Emmanuel shared 
 his beloved's grief, comprehending that the slightest 
 word or wish of love at such a time transgressed the laws 
 of the heart. Their love was therefore more concealed 
 than it had ever been. These tender souls sounded the 
 same note : held apart by grief, as formerly by the 
 timidities of j-outh and by respect for the sufferings of 
 the mother, they clung to the magnificent language 
 of the eyes, the mute eloquence of devoted actions, 
 the constant unison of thoughts, — divine harmonies of 
 3'outh, the first steps of a love still in its infancy. 
 Emmanuel came every morning to inquire for Claes 
 and Marguerite, but he never entered the dining-room, 
 where the family now sat, unless to bring a letter from 
 Gabriel or when Balthazar invited him to come in. 
 His first glance at the 3'Oung girl contained a thousand 
 sympathetic thoughts ; it told her that he suffered under 
 these conventional restraints, that he never left her, he 
 was always with her, he shared her grief. He shed the 
 tears of his own pain into the soul of his dear one by a 
 look that was marred by no selfish reservation. His 
 good heart lived so completely in the present, he clung 
 so firmly to a happiness which he believed to be fugi- 
 tive, that Marguerite sometimes reproached herself for 
 
The Alkahest. 185 
 
 not generously holding out her hand and saying, *' Let 
 us at least be friends." 
 
 Pierquin continued his suit with an obstinacy which 
 is the unreflecting patience of fools. He judged Mar- 
 guerite by the ordinary rules of the multitude when 
 judging of women. He believed that the words mar- 
 riage, freedom, fortune, which he had put into her mind, 
 would germinate and flower into wishes by which he 
 could profit ; he imagined that her coldness was mere 
 dissimulation. But surround her as he would with gal- 
 lant attentions, he could not hide the despotic ways of 
 a man accustomed to manage the private affairs of 
 many families with a high hand. He discoursed to her 
 in those platitudes of consolation common to his profes- 
 sion, which crawl like snails over the suflfering mind, 
 leaving behind them a trail of barren words which pro- 
 fane its sanctity. His tenderness was mere wheedhng. 
 He dropped his feigned melancholy at the door when 
 he put on his overshoes, or took his umbrella. He 
 used the tone his long intimacy authorized as an in- 
 strument to work himself still further into the bosom 
 of the family, and bring Marguerite to a marriage which 
 the whole town was beginning to foresee. The true, 
 devoted, respectful, love formed a striking contrast 
 to its selfish, calculating semblance. Each man's con- 
 duct was homogeneous : one feigned a passion and 
 seized every advantage to obtain the prize ; the other 
 
186 The Alkahest 
 
 hid his love and trembled lest he should betray his 
 devotion. 
 
 Some time after the death of her mother, and, as it 
 happened, on the same day, Marguerite was enabled to 
 compare the only two men of whom she had any oppor- 
 tunity of judging ; for the social solitude to which she 
 was condemned kept her from seeing life and gave no 
 access to those who might think of her in marriage. 
 One day after breakfast, on a fine morning in April, 
 Emmanuel called at the house just as Monsieur Claes 
 was going out. The aspect of his own house was so 
 unendurable to Balthazar that he spent part of every 
 day in walking about the ramparts. Emmanuel made 
 a motion as if to follow him, then he hesitated, seemed 
 to gather up his courage, looked at Marguerite and re- 
 mained. The young girl felt sure that he wished to 
 speak with her, and asked him to go into the garden ; 
 then she sent FeUcie to Martha, who was sewing in 
 the antechamber on the upper floor, and seated herself 
 on a garden-seat in full view of her sister and the old 
 duenna. 
 
 '* Monsieur Claes is as much absorbed by grief as he 
 once was by science," began the 3'oung man, watcbing 
 Balthazar as he slowly crossed the court-j^ard. ** Every 
 one in Douai pities him ; he moves like a man who has 
 lost all consciousness of life ; he stops without a pur- 
 pose, he gazes without seeing anything." 
 
The Alkahest 187 
 
 " Every sorrow has its own expression," said Mar- 
 guerite, checking her tears. *' What is it 3^011 wish to 
 say to me ? " she added after a pause, coldly and with 
 dignity. 
 
 '^Mademoiselle," answered Emmanuel in a voice of 
 feeling, "I scarcely know if I have the right to speak 
 to you as I am about to do ? Think only of my desire 
 to be of service to you, and give me the right of a 
 teacher to be interested in the future of a pupil. Your 
 brother Gabriel is over fifteen ; he is in the second class ; 
 it is now necessary to direct his studies in the line of 
 whatever future career he may take up. It is for your 
 father to decide what that career shall be : if he gives 
 the matter no thought, the injury to Gabriel will be se- 
 rious. But then, again, would it not mortify your 
 father if you showed him that he is neglecting his son's 
 interests ? Under these circumstances, could you not 
 yourself consult Gabriel as to his tastes, and help him 
 to choose a career, so that later, if his father should 
 think of making him a public officer, an administra- 
 tor, a soldier, he might be prepared with some spe- 
 cial training ? I do not suppose that either you or 
 Monsieur Claes would wish to bring Gabriel up in 
 idleness." 
 
 "Oh, no!" said Marguerite ; *' when my mother 
 taught us to make lace, and took such pains with 
 our drawing and music and embroidery, she often said 
 
188 The Alkahest. 
 
 we must be prepared for whatever might happen to us. 
 Gabriel ought to have a thorough education and a per- 
 sonal value. But tell me, what career is the best for a 
 man to choose ? " 
 
 "Mademoiselle," said Emmanuel, trembling with 
 pleasure, *' Gabriel is at the head of his class in mathe- 
 matics ; if he would like to enter the Ecole Polytech- 
 nique, he could there acquire the practical knowledge 
 which will fit him for any career. When he leaves the 
 Ecole he can choose the path in life for which he feels 
 the strongest bias. Thus, without compromising his 
 future, you will have saved a great deal of time. Men 
 who leave the Ecole with honors are sought after on all 
 sides ; the school turns out statesmen, diplomats, men 
 of science, engineers, generals, sailors, magistrates, 
 manufacturers, and bankers. There is nothing ex- 
 traordinary in the son of a rich or noble family pre- 
 paring himself to enter it. If Gabriel decides on this 
 course I shall ask you to — will you grant m}^ request ? 
 Say 3^es ! " 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Let me be his tutor," he answered, trembling. 
 
 Marguerite looked at Monsieur de Solis ; then she 
 took his hand, and said, "Yes" — and paused, add- 
 ing presently in a broken voice : — 
 
 " How much I value the delicac}^ which makes 
 you offer me a thing I can accept from you. In all 
 
The Alkahest. 189 
 
 that you have said I see how much you have thought 
 for us. I thank 3'ou." 
 
 Though the words were simply said, Emmanuel 
 tuiTied away his head not to show the tears that the 
 delight of being useful to her brought to his eyes. 
 
 ''I will bring both boys to see you," he said, when 
 he was a little calmer ; " to-morrow is a holiday." 
 
 He rose and bowed to Marguerite, who followed him 
 into the house ; when he had crossed the court-yard he 
 turned and saw her still at the door of the dining-room, 
 from which she made him a friendly sign. 
 
 After dinner Pierquin came to see Monsieur Claes, 
 and sat down between father and daughter on the very 
 bench in the garden where Emmanuel had sat that 
 morning. 
 
 ''My dear cousin," he said to Balthazar, "I have 
 come to-night to talk to you on business. It is now 
 forty-two days since the decease of your wife." 
 
 '' I keep no account of time," said Balthazar, wiping 
 awa}^ the tears that came at the word " decease." 
 
 "Oh, monsieur!" cried Marguerite, looking at the 
 lawyer, "how can you?" 
 
 "But, my dear Marguerite, we notaries are obliged 
 to consider the limits of time appointed by law. This 
 is a matter which concerns you and your co-heirs. 
 Monsieur Claes has none but minor children, and he 
 must make an inventor}* of his property within fortj'- 
 
190 The Alkahest, 
 
 five days of his wife's decease, so as to render in his 
 accounts at the end of that time. It is necessary to 
 know the value of his property before deciding whether 
 to accept it as sufficient security, or whether we must 
 fall back on the legal rights of minors." 
 
 Marguerite rose. 
 
 " Do not go away, my dear cousin," continued Pier- 
 quin ; '' my words concern you — you and your father 
 both. You know how truly I share your grief, but to- 
 da}^ you must give your attention to legal details. If 
 3'ou do not, every one of you will get into serious dif- 
 ficulties. I am only doing my duty as the family 
 lawyer." 
 
 *' He is right," said Claes. 
 
 " The time expires in two days," resumed Pierquin ; 
 " and I must begin the inventory to-morrow, if only to 
 postpone the payment of the legacy-tax which the pub- 
 lic treasurer will come here and demand. Treasurers 
 have no hearts ; the}^ don't trouble themselves about 
 feelings ; they fasten their claws upon us at all seasons. 
 Therefore for the next two days my clerk and I will be 
 here from ten till four with Monsieur Raparlier, the 
 public appraiser. After we get through the town prop- 
 erty we shall go into the country. As for the forest of 
 Waignies, we shall be obliged to hold a consultation 
 about that. Now let us turn to another matter. We 
 must call a family council and appoint a guardian to 
 
The Alkahest. 191 
 
 protect the interests of the minor children. Monsieur 
 Conyncks of Bruges is your nearest relative ; but he 
 has now become a Belgian. You ought," continued 
 Pierquin, addressing Balthazar, " to write to him on 
 this matter ; 3'ou can then find out if he has any inten- 
 tion of settling in France, where he has a fine property. 
 Perhaps you could persuade him and his daughter to 
 move into French Flanders. If he refuses, then I must 
 see about making up the council with the other near 
 relatives." 
 
 "What is the use of an inventory?" asked Mar- 
 guerite. 
 
 " To put on record the value and the claims of the 
 propert}^, its debts and its assets. When that is all 
 clearly scheduled, the family council, acting on behalf 
 of the minors, makes such dispositions as it sees 
 fit." 
 
 ''Pierquin," said Claes, rising from the bench, "do 
 all that is necessary to protect the rights of mj^ chil- 
 dren ; but spare us the distress of selling the things 
 that belonged to my dear — " he was unable to con- 
 tinue ; but he spoke with so noble an air and in a tone 
 of such deep feeling that Marguerite took her father's 
 hand and kissed it. 
 
 " To-morrow, then," said Pierquin. 
 
 " Come to breakfast," said Claes ; then he seemed to 
 gather his scattered senses together and exclaimed : 
 
192 The Alkahest. 
 
 "But in my marriage contract, which was drawn 
 under the laws of Hainault, I released my wife from 
 the obligation of making an inventory, in order that 
 she might not be annoyed by it : it is very probable 
 that I was equally released — " 
 
 "Oh, what happiness!" cried Marguerite. "It 
 would have been so distressing to us." 
 
 "Well, I will look into 3'our marriage contract to- 
 morrow," said the notary, rather confused. 
 
 " Then 3'ou did not know of this ? " said Marguerite. 
 
 This remark closed the interview ; the lawyer was 
 far too much confused to continue it after the young 
 girl's comment. 
 
 "The devil is in it!" he said to himself as he 
 crossed the court-yard. " That man's wandering mem- 
 ory comes back to him in the nick of time, — just when 
 he needed it to hinder us from taking precautions 
 against him! I have cracked my brains to save the 
 property of those children. I meant to proceed regu- 
 larly and come to an understanding with old Conyncks, 
 and here's the end of it! I shall lose ground with 
 Marguerite, for she will certainly ask her father wh3' I 
 wanted an inventory of the property, which she now 
 sees was not necessary ; and Claes will tell her that 
 notaries have a passion for writing documents, that we 
 are law3'ers above all, above cousins or friends or 
 relatives, and all such stuff as that." 
 
The Alkahest. 193 
 
 He slammed the street door violently, railing at 
 clients who ruin themselves by sensitiveness. 
 
 Balthazar was right. No inventory could be made. 
 Nothing, therefore, was done to settle the relation of 
 the father to the children in the matter of property. 
 
 la 
 
194 The Alkahest 
 
 XI. 
 
 Several months went by and brought no change to 
 the House of Claes. Gabriel, under the wise manage- 
 ment of his tutor, Monsieur de Solis, worked studiously, 
 acquired foreign languages, and prepared to pass the 
 necessary examinations to enter the Ecole Polytech- 
 nique. Marguerite and Felicie lived in absolute retire- 
 ment, going in summer to their father's country place 
 as a measure of economy. Monsieur Claes attended to 
 his business affairs, paid his debts by borrowing a con- 
 siderable sum of money on his property, and went to 
 see the forest at Waignies. 
 
 About the middle of the j^ear 1817, his grief, slowly 
 abating, left him a prey to solitude and defenceless 
 under the monotony of the life he was leading, which 
 heavily oppressed him. At first he struggled bravely 
 against the allurements of Science as they gradually be- 
 set him ; he forbade himself even to think of Chemistr3\ 
 Then he did think of it. Still, he would not actively 
 take it up, and only gave his mind to his researches 
 theoretically. Such constant stud}^ however, swelled 
 his passion which soon became exacting. He asked 
 
The Alkahest. 195 
 
 himself whether he was reallj^ bound not to continue his 
 researches, and remembered that his wife had refused 
 his oath. Though he had pledged his word to himself 
 that he would never pursue the solution of the great 
 Problem, might he not change that determination at a 
 moment when he foresaw success ? He was now fift}- 
 nine years old. At that age a predominant idea con- 
 tracts a certain peevish fixedness which is the first; 
 stage of monomania. 
 
 Circumstances conspired against his tottering loy- 
 alty. The peace which Europe now enjoyed encour- 
 aged the circulation of discoveries and scientific ideas 
 acquired during the war by the learned of various coun- 
 tries, who for nearly twenty years had been unable to 
 hold communication. Science was making great strides. 
 Claes found that the progress of chemistry had been 
 directed, unknown to chemists themselves, towards the 
 object of his researches. Learned men devoted to the 
 higher sciences thought, as he did, that light, heat, 
 electricity^ galvanism, magnetism were all different ef- 
 fects of the same cause, and that the difference existing 
 between substances hitherto considered simple must be 
 produced by varying proportions of an unknown princi- 
 ple. The fear that some other chemist might effect the 
 reduction of metals and discover the constituent prin- 
 ciple of electricit}^, — two achievements which would 
 lead to the solution of the chemical Absolute, — 
 
196 The Alkahest 
 
 increased what the people of Douai called a mania, and 
 drove his desires to a paroxj'sm conceivable to those 
 who devote themselves to the sciences, or who have 
 ever known the tyrann}?" of ideas. 
 
 Thus it happened that Balthazar was again carried 
 awaj^ by a passion all the more violent because it 
 had lain dormant so long. Marguerite, who watched 
 every evidence of her father's state of mind, opened 
 the long-closed parlor. By living in it she recalled 
 the painful memories which her mother's death had 
 caused, and succeeded for a time in re-awaking her 
 father's grief, and retarding his plunge into the gulf to 
 the depths of which he was, nevertheless, doomed to 
 fall. She determined to go into society and force Bal- 
 thazar to share in its distractions. Several good mar- 
 riages were proposed to her, which occupied Claes's 
 mind, but to all of them she replied that she should not 
 marry until after she was twentj'-five. But in spite of 
 his daughter's efforts, in spite of his remorseful strug- 
 gles, Balthazar, at the beginning of the winter, returned 
 secretly to his researches. It was difficult, however, 
 to hide his operations from the inquisitive women in 
 the kitchen ; and one morning Martha, while dressing 
 Marguerite, said to her : — 
 
 " Mademoiselle, we are as good as lost. That mon- 
 ster of a Mulquinier — who is a devil disguised, for I 
 never saw him make the sign of the cross — has gone 
 
The Alkahest, 197 
 
 back to the garret. There 's monsieur on the high-road 
 to hell. Pray God he mayn't kill you as he killed 
 my poor mistress." 
 
 " It is not possible ! '* exclaimed Marguerite. 
 
 "Come and see the signs of their traffic." 
 
 Mademoiselle Claes ran to the window and saw the 
 light smoke rising from the flue of the laboratory. 
 
 " I shall be twenty-one in a few months," she thought, 
 " and I shall know how to oppose the destruction of our 
 property." 
 
 In giving way to his passion Balthazar necessarily 
 felt less respect for the interests of his children than he 
 formerly had felt for the happiness of his wife. The 
 barriers were less high, his conscience was more elastic, 
 his passion had increased in strength. He now set 
 forth in his career of glorj^ toil, hope, and poverty, with 
 the fervor of a man profoundly trustful of his convic- 
 tions. Certain of the result, he worked night and day 
 with a fury that alarmed his daughters, who did not 
 know how little a man is injured by work that gives 
 him pleasure. 
 
 Her father had no sooner recommenced his experi- 
 ments than Marguerite retrenched the superfluities of 
 the table, showing a parsimon}^ worthy of a miser, in 
 which Josette and Martha admirably seconded her. 
 Claes never noticed the change which reduced the 
 household living to the merest necessaries. First he 
 
198 The AlJcahest 
 
 ceased to breakfast with the familj^ ; then he onlj^ left 
 his laboratory when dinner was readj- ; and at last, be- 
 fore he went to bed, he would sit some hours in the 
 parlor between his daughters without saving a word to 
 either of them ; when he rose to go upstairs they wished 
 him good-night, and he allowed them mechanically to 
 kiss him on both cheeks. Such conduct would have led 
 to great domestic misfortunes had Marguerite not been 
 prepared to exercise the authoritj^ of a mother, and if, 
 moreover, she were not protected by a secret love from 
 the dangers of so much liberty. 
 
 Pierquin had ceased to come to the house, judging 
 that the family ruin would soon be complete. Bal- 
 thazar's rural estates, which yielded sixteen thousand 
 francs a year, and were worth about six hundred thou- 
 sand, were now encumbered by mortgages to the 
 amount of three hundred thousand francs ; for, in order 
 to recommence his researches, Claes had borrowed a 
 considerable sum of money. The rents were exactly 
 enough to pay the interest of the mortgages ; but, with 
 the improvidence of a man who is the slave of an idea, 
 he made over the income from his farm lands to Mar- 
 guerite for the expenses of the household, and the no- 
 tary calculated that three years would suffice to bring 
 matters to a crisis, when the law would step in and eat 
 up all that Balthazar had not squandered. Marguerite's 
 coldness brought Pierquin to a state of almost hostile 
 
The Alkahest. 199 
 
 indifference. To give himself an appearance in the 
 eyes of the world of having renounced her hand, he 
 frequently remarked of the Claes family in a tone of 
 compassion : — 
 
 " Those poor people are ruined ; I have done my best 
 to save them. Well, it can't be helped ; Mademoiselle 
 Claes refused to employ the legal means which might 
 have rescued them from poverty." 
 
 Emmanuel de Soils, who was now principal of the 
 college-school in Douai, thanks to the influence of his 
 uncle and to his own merits which made him worthy of 
 the post, came every evening to see the two J^oung girls, 
 who called the old duenna into the parlor as soon as 
 their father had gone to bed. Emmanuel's gentle rap 
 at the street-door was never missing. For the last three 
 months, encouraged by the gracious, though mute grati- 
 tude with which Marguerite now accepted his attentions, 
 he became at his ease, and was seen, for what he was. 
 The brightness of his pure spirit shone like a flawless 
 diamond ; Marguerite learned to understand its strength 
 and its constancy when she saw how inexhaustible was 
 the source from which it came. She loved to watch the 
 unfolding, one by one, of the blossoms of his heart, 
 whose perfume she had already breathed. Each day 
 Emmanuel realized some one of Marguerite's hopes, 
 and illumined the enchanted regions of love with new 
 lights that chased away the clouds and brought to view 
 
200 The Alkahest. 
 
 the serene heavens, giving color to the fruitful riches 
 hidden away in the shadow of their lives. More at his 
 ease, the young man could display the seductive quali- 
 ties of his heart until now discreetly hidden, the expan- 
 sive gayety of his age, the simplicity which comes of a 
 life of studj', the treasures of a delicate mind that life 
 has not adulterated, the innocent joyousness which goes 
 so well with loving youth. His soul and Marguerite's 
 understood each other better; they went together to 
 the depths of their hearts and found in each the same 
 thoughts, — pearls of equal lustre, sweet fresh harmonies 
 like those the legends tell of beneath the waves, which 
 fascinate the divers. They made themselves known to 
 one another by an interchange of thought, a reciprocal 
 introspection which bore the signs, in both, of exquisite 
 sensibility. It was done without false shame, but not 
 without mutual coquetry. The two hours which Em- 
 manuel spent with the sisters and old Martha enabled 
 Marguerite to accept .jLhe life of anguish and renuncia- 
 tion on which she had entered. This artless, progressive 
 love was her suppm-t. In all his testimonies of affection 
 Emmanuel showed the natural grace that is so winning, 
 the sweet yet subtile mind which breaks the uniformity 
 of sentiment as the facets of a diamond relieve, by their 
 many-sided fires, the monotony of the stone, — adorable 
 wisdom, the secret of loving hearts, which makes a 
 woman pliant to the artistic hand that gives new life to 
 
The Alkahest. 201 
 
 old, old forms, and refreshes with novel modulations 
 the phrases of love. Love is not only a sentiment, 
 it is an art. Some simple word, a trifling vigilance, 
 a nothing, reveals to a woman the great, the divine 
 artist who shall touch her heart and 3'et not blight it. 
 The more Emmanuel was free to utter himself, the more 
 charming were the expressions of his love. 
 
 " I have tried to get here before Pierquin," he said 
 to Marguerite one evening. '' He is bringing some bad 
 news ; I would rather 3'ou heard it from me. Your 
 father has sold all the timber in your forest at Waig- 
 nies to speculators, who have resold it to dealers. The 
 trees are already felled, and the logs are carried away. 
 Monsieur Claes received three hundred thousand francs 
 in cash as a first instalment of the price, which he has 
 used towards paying his bills in Paris ; but to clear off 
 his debts entirely he has been forced to assign a hun- 
 dred thousand francs of the three hundred thousand 
 still due to him on the purchase-money." 
 
 Plerquin entered at this moment. 
 
 "Ah! my dear cousin," he said, ^' you are ruined. 
 I told you how it would be ; but you would not listen 
 to me. Your father has an insatiable appetite. He 
 has swallowed your woods at «, mouthful. Your family 
 guardian. Monsieur Cony neks, is just now absent in 
 Amsterdam, and Claes has seized the opportunity to 
 strike the blow. It is all wrong. I have written to 
 
202 The Alkahest. 
 
 Monsieur Conjmcks, but he will get here too late ; 
 everything will be squandered. You will be obliged to 
 sue your father. The suit can't be long, but it will be 
 dishonorable. Monsieur Cony neks has no alternative 
 but to institute proceedings ; the law requires it. This 
 is the result of your obstinacy. Do you now see my 
 prudence, and how devoted I was to your interests?" 
 
 " I bring you some good news, mademoiselle," said 
 young de Solis in his gentle voice. '' Gabriel has been 
 admitted to the Ecole Polytechnique. The difficulties 
 that seemed in the way have all been removed." 
 
 Marguerite thanked him with a smile as she said : — 
 
 *' My savings will now come in play ! Martha, we 
 must begin to-morrow on Gabriel's outfit. My poor 
 Felicie, we shall have to work hard," she added, kissing 
 her sister's forehead. 
 
 '' To-morrow you shall have him at home, to remain 
 ten days," said Emmanuel; '* he must be in Paris by 
 the fifteenth of November." 
 
 " My cousin Gabriel has done a sensible thing," said 
 the lawyer, eyeing the professor from head to foot; 
 " for he will have to make his own way. But, my dear 
 cousin, the question now is how to save the honor of the 
 family : will you listen to what I say this time ? " 
 
 *' No," she said, " not if it relates to marriage." 
 
 '" Then what will you do? " 
 
 *'I? — nothmg." 
 
The Alkahest. 203 
 
 " But you are of age." 
 
 " I shall be in a few days. Have you any course to 
 suggest to me," she added, '' which will reconcile our 
 interests with the duty we owe to our father and to the 
 honor of the family ? " 
 
 " My dear cousin, nothing can be done till your uncle 
 arrives. When he does, I will call again." 
 
 " Adieu, monsieur," said Marguerite. 
 
 " The poorer she is the more airs she gives herself," 
 thought the notary. " Adieu, mademoiselle," he said 
 aloud. " Monsieur, my respects to jou ; " and he went 
 away, paying no attention to Felicie or Martha. 
 
 "I have been studying the Code for the last two 
 days, and I have consulted an experienced old lawyer, 
 a friend of my uncle," said Emmanuel, in a hesitating 
 voice. " If you will allow me, I will go to Amsterdam 
 to-morrow and see Monsieur Conyncks. Listen, dear 
 Marguerite — " 
 
 He uttered her name for the first time ; she thanked 
 him with a smile and a tearful glance, and made a 
 gentle 'inclination of her head. He paused, looking 
 at Felicie and Martha. 
 
 " Speak before m}^ sister," said Marguerite. " She 
 is so docile and courageous that she does not need this 
 discussion to make her resigned to our life of toil and 
 privation ; but it is best that she should see for herself 
 how necessary courage is to us." 
 
204 The Alkahest, 
 
 The two sisters clasped hands and kissed each other, 
 as if to renew some pledge of union before the coming 
 disaster. 
 
 " Leave us, Martha." 
 
 " Dear Marguerite," said Emmanuel, letting the hap- 
 piness he felt in conquering the lesser rights of affec- 
 tion sound in the inflections of his voice, "I have 
 procured the names and addresses of the purchasers 
 who still owe the remaining two hundred thousand 
 francs on the felled timber. To-morrow, if you give 
 consent, a laW3^er acting in the name of Monsieur 
 Cony neks, who will not disavow the act, will serve an 
 injunction upon them. Six days hence, b}^ which time 
 your uncle will have returned, the family council can 
 be called together, and Gabriel put in possession of 
 his legal rights, for he is now eighteen. You and your 
 brother being thus authorized to use those rights, you 
 will demand your share in the proceeds of the timber. 
 Monsieur Claes cannot refuse you the two hundred 
 thousand francs on which the injunction will have been 
 put ; as to the remaining hundred thousand which is 
 due to you, j^ou must obtain a mortgage on, this house. 
 Monsieur Conyncks will demand securities for the three 
 hundred thousand belonging to Felicie and Jean. 
 Under these circumstances your father will be obliged 
 to mortgage his property on the plain of Orchies, 
 which he has alreadj^ encumbered to the amount of 
 
The Alkahest. 205 
 
 three hundred thousand francs. The law gives a retro- 
 spective priority to the claims of minors ; and that will 
 save you. Monsieur Claes's hands will be tied for the 
 future ; your property becomes inalienable, and he can 
 no longer borrow on his own estates because they will 
 be held as security for other sums. Moreover, the 
 whole can be done quietly, without scandal or legal 
 proceedings. Your father will be forced to greater 
 prudence in making his researches, even if he cannot 
 be persuaded to relinquish them altogether." 
 
 " Yes," said Marguerite, *' but where, meantime, can 
 we find the means of living? The hundred thousand 
 francs for which, you say, I must obtain a mortgage on 
 this house, would bring in nothing while we still live 
 here. The proceeds of my father's property in the coun- 
 try will pay the interest on the three hundred thousand 
 francs he owes to others ; but how are we to live ? " 
 
 " In the first place," said Emmanuel, " by investing 
 the fifty thousand francs which belong to Gabriel in the 
 public Funds you will get, according to present rates, 
 more than four thousand francs* income, which will 
 suffice to pay 3'our brother's board and lodging and all 
 his other expenses in Paris. Gabriel cannot touch the 
 capital until he is of age, therefore you need not fear 
 that he will waste a penny of it, and you will have one 
 expense the less. Besides, you will have your own 
 fifty thousand." 
 
206 TJie Alkahest, 
 
 "My father will ask me for them," she said in a 
 frightened tone ; " and I shall not be able to refuse 
 him." 
 
 "Well, dear Marguerite, even so, you can evade 
 that by robbing yourself. Place your money in the 
 Grand-Livre in Gabriel's name: it will bring you 
 twelve or thirteen thousand francs a year. Minors 
 who are emancipated cannot sell property without per- 
 mission of the family council ; you will thus gain three 
 years' peace of mind. By that time your father will 
 either have solved his problem or renounced it ; and 
 Gabriel, then of age, will reinvest the money in your 
 own name." 
 
 Marguerite made him explain to her once more the 
 legal points which she did not at first understand. It 
 was certainly a novel sight to see this pair of lovers 
 poring over the Code, which Emmanuel had brought 
 with him to show his mistress the laws which pro- 
 tected the property of minors ; she quickly caught 
 the meaning of them, thanks to the natural penetra- 
 tion of women, which in this case love still further 
 sharpened. 
 
 Gabriel came home to his father's house on the fol- 
 lowing day. When Monsieur de Solis brought him up 
 to Balthazar and told of his admission to the Ecole 
 Poly technique, the father thanked the professor with a 
 wave of his hand, and said : — 
 
The Alkahest, 207 
 
 ** I am very glad ; Gabriel may become a man of 
 science." 
 
 "Oh, my brother," cried Marguerite, as Balthazar 
 went back to his laboratory, "work hard, waste no 
 money ; spend what is necessary, but practise economy. 
 On the days when you are allowed to go out, pass 
 your time with our friends and relations ; contract none 
 of the habits which ruin young men in Paris. Your 
 expenses will amount to nearly three thousand francs, 
 and that will leave you a thousand francs for your 
 pocket-money; that is surely enough." 
 
 "I will answer for him," said Emmanuel de Solis, 
 laying his hand on his pupil's shoulder. 
 
 A month later. Monsieur Conyncks, in conjunction 
 with Marguerite, had obtained all necessary securities 
 from Claes. The plan so wisely proposed by Emman- 
 uel de Solis was fully approved and executed. Face to 
 face with the law, and in presence of his cousin, whose 
 stern sense of honor allowed no compromise, Balthazar, 
 ashamed of the sale of the timber to which he had con- 
 sented at a moment when he was harassed by creditors, 
 submitted to all that was demanded of him. Glad to 
 repair the almost involuntary wrong that he had done 
 to his children, he signed the deeds in a preoccupied 
 way. He was now as careless and improvident as a 
 negro who sells his wife in the morning for a drop of 
 brandy, and cries for her at night. He gave no 
 
208 The Alkahest, 
 
 thought to even the immediate future, and never asked 
 himself what resources he would have when his last 
 ducat was melted up. He pursued his work and con- 
 tinued his purchases, apparently unaware that he was 
 now no more than the titular owner of his house and 
 lands, and that he could not, thanks to the severit}- of 
 the laws, raise another pennj' upon a property of which 
 he was now, as it were, the legal guardian. 
 
 The year 1818 ended without bringing any new mis- 
 fortune. The sisters paid the costs of Jean's education 
 and met all the expenses of the household out of the 
 thirteen thousand francs a year from the sum placed in 
 the Grand-Livre in Gabriel's name, which he punctually 
 remitted to them. Monsieur de Solis lost his uncle, 
 the abbe, in December of that year. 
 
 Early in January Marguerite learned through Martha 
 that her father had sold his collection of tulips, also the 
 furuiture of the front house, and all the family silver. 
 She was obliged to h\xy back the spoons and forks that 
 were necessary for the daily service of the table, and 
 these she now ordered to be stamped with her initials. 
 Until that day Marguerite had kept silence towards 
 her father on the subject of his depredations, but that 
 evening after dinner she requested Felicie to leave her 
 alone with him, and when he seated himself as usual by 
 the corner of the parlor fireplace, she said : — 
 
 *'My dear father, you are the master here, and can 
 
The Alkahest 209 
 
 sell everything, even your children. We are ready to 
 obey you without a murmur ; but I am forced to tell 
 3'ou that we are without money, that we have barely 
 enough to live on, and that Felicie and I are obliged to 
 work night and day to pay for the schooling of little 
 Jean with the price of the lace dress we are now 
 ^making. My dear father, I implore you to give up 
 your researches." 
 
 "You are right, my dear child; in six weeks they 
 will be finished ; I shall have found the Absolute, or 
 the Absolute will be proved undiscoverable. You will 
 have millions — " 
 
 "Give us meanwhile the bread to eat," replied 
 Marguerite. 
 
 " Bread ? is there no bread here ?" said Claes, with 
 a frightened air. " No bread in the house of a Claes ! 
 What has become of our property ? '' 
 
 " You have cut down the forest of Waignies. The 
 ground has not been cleared and is therefore unproduc- 
 tive. As for your farms at Orchies, the rents scarcely 
 sufl3ce to pay the interest of the sums you have 
 borrowed — " 
 
 " Then what are we living on?" he demanded. 
 
 Marguerite held up her needle and continued : — 
 
 "Gabriers income helps us, but it is insufficient; I 
 
 can make both ends meet at the close of the year if you 
 
 do not overwhelm me with bills that I do not expect, 
 
 14. 
 
210 The Alkahest. 
 
 for purchases you. tell me nothing about. When I think 
 I have enough to meet my quarterly expenses some un- 
 expected bill for potash, or zinc, or sulphur, is brought 
 to me." 
 
 " My dear child, have patience for six weeks ; after 
 that, I will be judicious. My little Marguerite, you 
 shall see wonders." 
 
 " It is time you should think of your affairs. You 
 have sold everything, — pictures, tulips, plate ; nothing 
 is left. At least, refrain from making debts." 
 
 "I don't wish to make any more ! " he said. 
 
 " Any more? " she cried, " then yoxx have some ? " 
 
 " Mere trifles," he said, but he dropped his eyes and 
 colored. 
 
 For the first time in her life Marguerite felt humiliated 
 by the lowering of her father's character, and suffered 
 from it so much that she dared not question him. 
 
 A month after this scene one of the Douai bankers 
 brought a bill of exchange for ten thousand francs 
 signed hy Claes. Marguerite asked the banker to wait 
 a day, and expressed her regret that she had not been 
 notified to prepare for this payment; whereupon he 
 informed her that the house of Protez and Chiffreville 
 held nine other bills to the same amount, falling due in 
 consecutive months. 
 
 ''All is over!" cried Marguerite, "the time has 
 come." 
 
The AlkahesL 211 
 
 She sent for her father, and walked up and down the 
 parlor with hasty steps, talking to herself: — 
 
 " A hundred thousand francs ! " she cried. " I must 
 find them, or see my father in prison. What am I to 
 do?" 
 
 Balthazar did not come. Wear}- of waiting for him, 
 Marguerite went up to Ihe laboratory. As she entered 
 she saw him in the middle of an immense, brilliantly- 
 lighted room, filled with machinery and dusty glass ves- 
 sels : here and there were books, and tables encumbered 
 with specimens and products ticketed and numbered. 
 On all sides the disorder of scientific pursuits con- 
 trasted strongly with Flemish habits. This litter of re- 
 torts and vaporizers, metals, fantasticall}' colored crys- 
 tals, specimens hooked upon the walls or lying on the 
 furnaces, surrounded the central figure of Balthazar 
 Claes, without a coat, his arms bare like those of a 
 workman, his breast exposed, and showing the white 
 hairs which covered it. His eyes were gazing with 
 horrible fixity at a pneumatic trough. The receiver of 
 this instrument was covered with a lens made of double 
 convex glasses, the space between the glasses being 
 filled with alchohol, which focussed the light coming 
 through one of the compartments of the rose-window of 
 the garret. The shelf of the receiver communicated 
 with the wire of an immense galvanic battery. Lemul- 
 quinier, busy at the moment in moving the pedestal of 
 
212 The Alkahest, 
 
 the machine, which was placed on a movable axle so as 
 to keep the lens in a perpendicular direction to the ra^s 
 of the sun, turned round, his face black with dust, and 
 called out, — 
 
 " Ha ! mademoiselle, don't come in/* 
 
 The aspect of her father, half-kneeling beside the in- 
 strument, and receiving the full strength of the sunlight 
 upon his head, the protuberances of his skull, its scanty 
 hairs resembling threads of silver, his face contracted 
 by the agonies of expectation, the strangeness of the 
 objects that surrounded him, the obscurity of parts of 
 the vast garret from which fantastic engines seemed 
 about to spring, all contributed to startle Marguerite, 
 who said to herself, in terror, — 
 
 "He is mad!" 
 
 Then she went up to him and whispered in his ear, 
 " Send away Lemulquinier." 
 
 '^ No, no, my child ; I want him : I am in the midst 
 of an experiment no one has yet thought of. For the 
 last three days we have been watching for every ray of 
 sun. I now have the means of submitting metals, in a 
 complete vacuum, to concentrated solar fires and to 
 electric currents. At this ver}" moment the most pow- 
 erful action a chemist can employ is about to show re- 
 sults which I alone — " 
 
 ''M}'- father, instead of vaporizing metals you should 
 employ them in paj^ng your notes of hand — " 
 
The Alkahest, 213 
 
 *' Wait, wait!" 
 
 " Monsieur Mersktus has been here, father; and he 
 must have ten thousand francs by four o'clock." 
 
 " Yes, yes, presently. True, I did sign a httle note 
 which is payable this month. I felt sure I should have 
 found the Absolute. Good God ! If I could onl}' have 
 a Juh' sun the experiment would be successful.'* 
 
 He grasped his head and sat down on an old cane 
 chair ; a few tears rolled from his eyes. 
 
 *' Monsieur is quite right," said Lemulquinier ; '* it is 
 all the fault of that rascally sun which is too feeble, — 
 the coward, the lazy thing ! " 
 
 Master and valet paid no further attention to Mar- 
 guerite. 
 
 " Leave us, Mulquinier," she said. 
 
 '' Ah ! I see a new experiment ! " cried Claes. 
 
 "Father, lay aside your experiments," said his 
 daughter, when they were alone. " You have one 
 hundred thousand francs to pay, and we have not a 
 penny. Leave 3'our laboratory ; your honor is in ques- 
 tion. What will become of 3'ou if 3'ou are put in 
 prison ? Will you soil j^our white hairs and the name 
 of Claes with the disgrace of bankruptcy ? I will not 
 allow it. I shall have strength to oppose your mad- 
 ness ; it would be dreadful to see you without bread in 
 your old age. Open your eyes to our position ; see 
 reasoi> at last!" 
 
214 The Alkahest. 
 
 '• Madness ! " cried Balthazar, struggling to his feet. 
 He fixed his luminous eyes upon his daughter, crossed 
 his arms on his breast, and repeated the word ''Mad- 
 ness ! " so majestica% that Marguerite trembled. 
 
 "Ah!" he cried, "your mother would never have 
 uttered that word to me. She was not ignorant of the 
 importance of my researches ; she learned a science to 
 understand me ; she recognized that I toiled for the 
 human race ; she knew there was nothing sordid or 
 selfish in my aims. The feelings of a loving wife are 
 higher, I see it now, than filial affection. Yes, Love 
 is above all other feelings. See reason ! " he went on, 
 striking his breast. " Do I lack reason? Am I not 
 myself? You say we are poor ; well, my daughter, I 
 choose it to be so. I am your father, obey me. I will 
 make you rich when I please. Your fortune? it is a 
 pittance ! When I find the solvent of carbon I' will 
 fill your parlor with diamonds, and they are but a scin- 
 tilla of what I seek. You can well afford to wait while 
 I consume my life in superhuman efforts." 
 
 "Father, I have no right to ask an account of the 
 four millions you have already engulfed in this fatal 
 garret. I will not speak to yon of my mother whom 
 you killed. If I had a husband, I should love him, 
 doubtless, as she loved you ; I should be ready to sac- 
 rifice all to him, as she sacrificed all for you. I have 
 obeyed her orders in giving myself wholly to you ; I 
 
Tlie Alkahest. 215 
 
 have proved it in not marning and compelling 3'ou to 
 render an account of 3'our guardianship. Let us dis- 
 miss the past and think of the present. I am here now 
 to represent the necessity which you have created for 
 3'ourself. You must have money to meet your notes — 
 do 3'ou understand me ? There is nothing left to seize 
 here but the portrait of j^our ancestor, the Claes 
 martjT. I come in the name of my mother, who felt 
 herself too feeble to defend her children against their 
 father ; she ordered me to resist you. I come in the 
 name of my brothers and my sister : I come, father, in 
 the name of all the Claes, and I command you to give 
 up your experiments, or earn the means of pursuing 
 them hereafter, if pursue them 3'ou must. If you arm 
 yourself with the power of your paternity, which 3'ou 
 emplo3' only for our destruction, I have on my side 
 your ancestors and your honor, whose voice is louder 
 than that of chemistry. The Family is greater than 
 Science. I have been too long your daughter." 
 
 "And 3'ou choose to be my executioner," he said, in 
 a feeble voice. 
 
 Marguerite turned and fled away, that she might not 
 abdicate the part she had just assumed : she fancied 
 she heard again her mother's voice saying to her, "Do 
 not oppose your father too much ; love liim well." 
 
216 The Alkahest, 
 
 XII. 
 
 ** Mademoiselle has made a pretty piece of work 
 up 3^onder," said Lemulquinier, coming down to the 
 kitchen for his breakfast. " We were just going to put 
 our hands on the great secret, we only wanted a scrap 
 of July sun, for monsieur, — ah, what a man ! he 's 
 almost in the shoes of the good God himself ! — was 
 almost within that,'^ he said to Josette, clicking his 
 thumbnail against a front tooth, " of getting hold of 
 the Absolute, when up she came, slam bang, scream- 
 ing some nonsense about notes of hand." 
 
 '' Well, pay them yourself," said Martha, " out of 
 your wages." 
 
 "Where's the butter for my bread?" said Lemul- 
 quinier to the cook. 
 
 *' Where's the money to buy it?" she answered, 
 sharply. " Come, old villain, if you make gold in that 
 devil's kitchen of yours, why don't you make butter? 
 'T would n't be half so difficult, and you could sell it in 
 the market for enough to make the pot boil. We all 
 eat dry bread. The j'oung ladies are satisfied with dry 
 bread and nuts, and do you expect to be better fed 
 than your masters? Mademoiselle won't spend more 
 
The Alkahest. 217 
 
 than one hundred francs a month for the whole house- 
 hold. There 's only one dinner for all. If 3'ou want 
 dainties jou 've got your furnaces upstairs where you 
 fricassee pearls till there 's nothing else talked of in 
 town. Get 3'our roast chickens up there." 
 
 Lemulquinier took his dry bread and went out. 
 
 '' He will go and buy something to eat with his own 
 money," said Martha ; "all the better, — it is just so 
 much saved. Is n't he stingy, the old scarecrow I " 
 
 " Starve him ! that's the only way to manage him," said 
 Josette. " For a week past he has n't rubbed a single 
 floor ; I have to do his work, for he is always upstairs. 
 He can xery well alBTord to pay me for it with the pres- 
 ent of a few herrings ; if he brings any home, I shall 
 la}^ hands on them, I can tell him that." 
 
 *'Ah!" exclaimed Martha, *'I hear Mademoiselle 
 Marguerite crying. Her wizard of a father would 
 swallow the house at a gulp without asking a Christian 
 blessing, the old sorcerer ! In my country he 'd be 
 burned alive ; but people here have no more religion 
 than the Moors in Africa." 
 
 Marguerite could scarcely stifle her sobs as she came 
 through the gallery. She reached her room, took out 
 her mother's letter, and read as follows : — 
 
 My Child, — If God so wills, my spirit will be within your 
 heart when you read these words, the last I shall ever write; 
 they are full of love for my dear ones, left at the mercy of a 
 
218 The Alkahest 
 
 demon whom I have not been able to resist. When you read 
 these words he will have taken your last crust, just as he 
 took my life and squandered my love. You know, my dar- 
 ling, if I loved your father: I die loving him less, for I take 
 precautions against him which I never could have practised 
 while living. Yes, in the depths of my coffin I shall have 
 kept a last resource for the day when some terrible misfortune 
 overtakes you. If when that day comes you are reduced to 
 poverty, or if your honor is in question, my child, send for 
 Monsieur de Solis, should he be living, — if not, for his nephew, 
 our good Emmanuel; they hold one hundred and seventy thou- 
 sand francs which are yours and will enable you to live. 
 
 If nothing shall have subdued his passion ; if his children 
 prove no stronger barrier than my happiness has been, and 
 cannot stop his criminal career, — leave him, leave your 
 father, that you may live. I could not forsake him ; I was 
 bound to him. You, Marguerite, you must save the family. 
 1 absolve you for all you may do to defend Gabriel and Jean 
 and Felicie. Take courage; be the guardian angel of the 
 Claes. Be firm, — I dare not say be pitiless ; but to repair the 
 evil already done you must keep some means at hand. On 
 the day when you read this letter, regard yourself as ruined 
 already, for nothing will stay the fury of that passion which 
 has torn all things from me. 
 
 My child, remember this: the truest love is to forget your 
 heart. Even though you be forced to deceive your father, 
 your dissimulation will be blessed; your actions, however 
 blamable they may seem, will be heroic if taken to protect 
 the family. The virtuous Monsieur de Solis tells me so; 
 and no conscience was ever purer or more enlightened than 
 his. I could never have had the courage to speak these 
 words to you, even with my dying breath. 
 
The Alkahest. 219 
 
 And yet, my daughter, be respectful, be kind in the dread- 
 ful struggle. Resist him, but love him; deny him gently. 
 My hidden tears, my inward griefs will be known only when 
 I am dead. Kiss my dear children in my name when the 
 hour comes and you are called upon to protect them. 
 
 May God and the saints be with you ! 
 
 Josephine. 
 
 To this letter was added an acknowledgment from 
 the Messieurs de Solis, uncle and nephew, who thereby 
 bound themselves to place the money intrusted to them 
 by Madame Claes in the hands of whoever of her child- 
 ren should present the paper. 
 
 " Martha," cried Marguerite to the duenna, who 
 came quickly; "go to Monsieur Emmanuel de Solis, 
 and ask him to come to me. — Noble, discreet heart! 
 he never told me," she thought ; " though all my griefs 
 and cares are his, he never told me ! " 
 
 Emmanuel came before Martha could get back. 
 
 " You have kept a secret from me," she said, show- 
 ing him her mother's letter. 
 
 Emmanuel bent his head. 
 
 " Marguerite, are you in great trouble? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," she answered ; " be my support, — you, whom 
 my mother calls ' our good Emmanuel.' " She showed 
 him the letter, unable to repress her joy in knowing 
 that her mother approved her choice. 
 
 " My blood and my life were yours on the morrow 
 of the day when I first saw you in the gallery," he said ; 
 
220 The Alkahest. 
 
 " but I scarcely dared to hope the time might come 
 when you would accept them. If you know me well, 
 you know my word is sacred. Forgive the absolute 
 obedience I have paid to your mother's wishes ; it was 
 not for me to judge her intentions." 
 
 " You have saved us," she said, interrupting him, 
 and taking his arm to go down to the parlor. 
 
 After hearing from Emmanuel the origin of the 
 money intrusted to him, Marguerite confided to him 
 the terrible straits in which the family now found 
 themselves. 
 
 *' I must pay those notes at once," said Emmanuel. 
 " If Mersktus holds them all, you can at least save the 
 interest. I will bring you the remaining seventy thou- 
 sand francs. My poor uncle left me quite a large sum 
 in ducats, which are easy to carry secretly." 
 
 " Oh ! " she said, '' bring them at night ; we can hide 
 them when my father is asleep. If he knew that I had 
 money, he might try to force it from me. Oh, Em- 
 manuel, think what it is to distrust a father ! " she 'said, 
 weeping and resting her forehead against the young 
 man's heart. 
 
 This sad, confiding movement, with which the young 
 girl asked protection, was the first expression of a love 
 hitherto wrapped in melancholy and restrained within 
 a sphere of grief: the heart, too full, was forced to 
 overflow beneath the pressure of this new misery. 
 
The Alkahest. 221 
 
 *' What can we do; what will become of us? He 
 sees nothing, he cares for nothing, — neither for us nor 
 for himself. I know not how he can live in that garret, 
 where the air is stifling." 
 
 " What can 3'ou expect of a man who calls inces- 
 santly, like Richard III., ' M3' kingdom for a horse'?" 
 said Emmanuel. "He is pitiless; and in that you 
 must imitate him. Pay his notes ; give him, if you will, 
 your whole fortune ; but that of 3'our sister and of your 
 brothers is neither yours nor his." 
 
 "Give him my fortune?" she said, pressing her 
 lover's hand and looking at him with ardor in her eyes ; 
 "3'ou advise it, you! — and Pierquin told a hundred 
 lies to make me keep it ! " 
 
 *' Alas! I may be selfish in m}' own way," he said. 
 " Sometimes I long for 3'ou without fortune ; you seem 
 nearer to me then ! At other times I want 3'ou rich and 
 happ3', and I feel how paltr3^ it is to think that the poor 
 grandeurs of wealth can separate us." 
 
 " Dear, let us not speak of ourselves." 
 
 "Ourselves!" he repeated, with rapture. Then, 
 after a pause, he added : " The evil is great, but it is 
 not irreparable." 
 
 ' ' It can be repaired onl3^ b3' us : the Claes famil3' has 
 now no head. To reach the stage of being neither father 
 nor man, to have no consciousness of justice or injus- 
 tice (for, in defiance of the laws, he has dissipated — 
 
222 The Alkahest. 
 
 he, so great, so noble,- so upright — the property of the 
 children he was bound to defend), oh, to what depths 
 must he have fallen ! My God I what is this thing he 
 seeks ? " , 
 
 *' Unfortunately, dear Marguerite, wrong as he is in 
 his relation to his family, he is right scientifically. A 
 score of men in Europe admire him for the very thing 
 which others count as madness. But nevertheless you 
 must, without scruple, refuse to let him take the prop- 
 erty of his children. Great discoveries have always 
 been accidental. If your father ever finds the solution 
 of the problem, it will be when it costs him nothing ; in 
 a moment, perhaps, when he despairs of it." 
 
 " My poor mother is happy," said Marguerite ; *' she 
 would have suffered a thousand deaths before she died : 
 as it was, her first encounter with Science killed her. 
 Alas ! the strife is endless." 
 
 ''There is an end," said Emmanuel. "When you 
 have nothing left. Monsieur Claes can get no further 
 credit ; then he will stop." 
 
 ''Let him stop now, then," cried Marguerite, "for 
 we are without a penny!" 
 
 Monsieur de Solis went to bu^^ up Claes's notes and 
 returned, bringing them to Marguerite. Balthazar, con- 
 trary to his custom, came down a few moments before 
 dinner. For the first time in two j^ears his daughter 
 noticed the signs of a human grief upon his face : he 
 
The Alkahest, 223 
 
 was again a father, reason and judgment had overcome 
 Science ; he looked into the court-yard, then into the 
 garden, and when certain that he was alone with his 
 daughter, he came up to her with a look of melancholy 
 kindness. 
 
 " My child," he said, taking her hand and pressing 
 it with persuasive tenderness, '' forgive your old father. 
 Yes, Marguerite, I have done wrong. You spoke truly. 
 So long as I have not found I am a miserable wretch. 
 I will go awaj' from here. I cannot see Van Claes 
 sold," he went on, pointing to the mart3'r's portrait. 
 " He died for Liberty, I die for Science ; he is vener- 
 ated, I am hated." 
 
 "Hated? oh, my father, no," she cried, throwing 
 herself on his breast ; " we all adore you. Do we not, 
 Felicie ? " she said, turning to her sister who came in 
 at the moment. 
 
 " What is the matter, dear father? " said his young- 
 est daughter, taking his hand. 
 
 " I have ruined 3'ou." 
 
 "Ah! " cried Felicie, *' but our brothers will make 
 our fortune. Jean is alwa3's at the head of his class." 
 
 " See, father," said Marguerite, leading Balthazar 
 in a coaxing, filial way to the chimney-piece and taking 
 some papers from beneath the clock, "here are 3'our 
 notes of hand ; but do not sign any more, there is 
 nothing left to pa3^ them with — " 
 
224 The Alkahest. 
 
 "Then j'ou have money?" whispered Balthazar in 
 her ear, when he recovered from his surprise. 
 
 His words and manner tortured the heroic girl ; she 
 saw the delirium of joy and hope in her father's face as 
 he looked about him to discover the gold. 
 
 " Father," she said, " I have my own fortune." 
 
 '' Give it to me," he said with a rapacious gesture ; 
 " I will return you a hundred-fold." 
 
 *' Yes, I will give it to 3'ou," answered Marguerite, 
 looking gravely at Balthazar, who did not know the 
 meaning she put into her words. 
 
 " Ah, my dear daughter ! " he cried, " you save my 
 life. I have thought of a last experiment, after which 
 nothing more is possible. If, this time, I do not find 
 the Absolute, I must renounce the search. Come to 
 my arms, my darling child ; I will make you the 
 happiest woman upon earth. You give me glory ; you 
 bring me back to happiness ; you bestow the power to 
 heap treasures upon my children — yes ! I will load 
 you with jewels, with wealth." 
 
 He kissed his daughter's forehead, took her hands 
 and pressed them, and testified his joy by fondling ca- 
 resses which to Marguerite seemed almost obsequious. 
 During the dinner he thought only of her ; he looked 
 at her eagerly- with the assiduous devotion displayed 
 by a lover to his mistress : if she made a movement, 
 he tried to divine her wish, and rose to fulfil it; he 
 
The Alkahest. 225 
 
 made her ashamed by the youthful eagerness of his 
 attentions, which were painfully out of keeping with his 
 premature old age. To all these cajoleries, Marguerite 
 herself presented the contrast of actual distress, shown 
 sometimes by a word of doubt, sometimes by a glance 
 along the empty shelves of the sideboards in the dining- 
 room. 
 
 ''Well, well," he said, following her eye, ''in six 
 months we shall fill them again with gold, and marvel- 
 lous things. You shall be like a queen. Bah ! nature 
 herself will belong to us, we shall rise above all created 
 beings — through you, you, my Marguerite! Marga- 
 rita," he said, smiling, " th}^ name is a prophecy. 
 ' Margarita ' means a pearl. Sterne says so somewhere. 
 Did you ever read Sterne ? Would 3^ ou like to have a 
 Sterne ? it would amuse 3'ou." 
 
 "A pearl, they say, is the result of a disease," she 
 answered ; "we have suffered enough already." 
 
 "Do not be sad; you will make the happiness of 
 those you love ; yoxx shall be rich and all-powerful." 
 
 "Mademoiselle has got such a good heart," said 
 Lemulquinier, whose seamed face stretched itself pain- 
 fully into a smile. 
 
 For the rest of the evening Balthazar displayed to his 
 daughters all the natural graces of his character and 
 the charms of his conversation. Seductive as the ser- 
 pent, his lips, his eyes, poured out a magnetic fluid ; he 
 
 15 
 
228 The Alkahest 
 
 put forth that power of genius, that gentleness of spirit 
 which once fascinated Josephine and now drew, as it 
 were, his daughters into his heart. When Emmanuel de 
 Solis came he found, for the first time in many months, 
 the father and the children reunited. The young pro- 
 fessor, in spite of his reserve, came under the influence 
 of the scene ; for Claes's manners and conversation had 
 recovered their former irresistible seduction ! 
 
 Men of science, plunged though they be in abj'sses of 
 thought and ceaselessly employed in studying the moral 
 world, take notice, nevertheless, of the smallest details 
 of the sphere in which they live. More out of date with 
 their surroundings than really absent-minded, they are 
 never in harmon}^ with the life about them ; they know 
 and forget all; they prejudge the future in their own 
 minds, prophesy to their own souls, know of an event 
 before it happens, and yet they say nothing of all this. 
 If, in the hush of meditation, they sometimes use their 
 power to observe and recognize that which goes on 
 around them, they are satisfied with having divined its 
 meaning; their occupations hurry them on, and they 
 frequently make false application of the knowledge they 
 have acquired about the things of life. Sometimes 
 they wake from their social apathj^ or they drop from 
 the world of thought to the world of life ; at such times 
 they come with well-stored memories, and are by no 
 means strangers to what is happening. 
 
The Alkahest 227 
 
 Balthazar, who joined the perspicacity of the heart to 
 that of the brain, knew his daughter's whole past ; he 
 knew, or he had guessed, the histor}^ of the hidden love 
 that united her with Emmanuel: he now showed this 
 delicately, and sanctioned their affection by taking part 
 in it. It was the sweetest flattery a father could be- 
 stow, and the lovers were unable to resist it. The even- 
 ing passed delightfully, — contrasting with the griefs 
 which threatened the lives of these poor children. 
 When Balthazar retired, after, as we may say, filling his 
 family with light and bathing them with tenderness, 
 Emmanuel de Solis, who had shown some embarrass- 
 ment of manner, took from his pockets three thousand 
 ducats in gold, the possession of which he had feared 
 to betray. He placed them on the work-table, where 
 Marguerite covered them with some linen she was 
 mending ; and then he went to his own house to fetch 
 the rest of the money. When he returned, Felicie had 
 gone to bed. Eleven o'clock struck ; Martha, who sat 
 up to undress her mistress, was still with Felicie. 
 
 ''Where can we hide it?" said Marguerite, unable 
 to resist the pleasure of playing with the gold ducats, — 
 a childish amusement which proved disastrous. 
 
 " I will lift this marble pedestal, which is hollow," 
 said Emmanuel; "you can slip in the packages, and 
 the devil himself will not think of looking for them 
 there." 
 
228 The AUcahest. 
 
 Just as Marguerite was making her last trip but one 
 from the work-table to the pedestal, carr3ing the gold, 
 she suddenly gave a piercing cry, and let fall the pack- 
 ages, the covers of which broke as they fell, and the 
 coins were scattered about the room. Her father stood 
 at the parlor door ; the avidity of his eyes terrified her. 
 
 "What are you doing?" he said, looking first at 
 his daughter, whose terror nailed her to the floor, and 
 then at the j^oung man, who had hastily sprung up, — 
 though his attitude beside the pedestal was suflaciently 
 significant. The rattle of the gold upon the ground 
 was horrible, the scattering of it prophetic. 
 
 " I could not be mistaken," said Balthazar, sitting 
 down ; " I heard the sound of gold." 
 
 He was not less agitated than the young people, whose 
 hearts were beating so in unison that their throbs might 
 be heard, like the ticking of a clock, amid the profound 
 silence which suddenly settled on the parlor. 
 
 *' Thank you. Monsieur de Solis," said Marguerite, 
 giving Emmanuel a glance which meant, " Come to my 
 rescue and help me to save this money." 
 
 " What gold is this? " resumed Balthazar, casting at 
 Marguerite and Emmanuel a glance of terrible clear- 
 sightedness. 
 
 "This gold belongs to Monsieur de Solis, who is 
 kind enough to lend it to me that I may pay our debts 
 honorably," she answered. 
 
The Alkahest. 229 
 
 Emmanuel colored and turned as though about to 
 leave the room : Balthazar caught him by the arm. 
 
 " Monsieur," he said, " you must not escape my 
 thanks." 
 
 " Monsieur, you owe me none. This money belongs 
 to Mademoiselle Marguerite, who borrows it from me 
 on the security of her own property," Emmanuel re- 
 plied, looking at his mistress, who thanked him with 
 an almost imperceptible movement of her eyelids. 
 
 " I shall not allow that," said Claes, taking a pen 
 and a sheet of paper from the table where FeUcie did 
 her writing, and turning to the astonished 3'Oung peo- 
 ple. "How much is it?" His eager passion made 
 him more astute than the wiliest of rascally bailiffs : 
 the sum was to be his. Marguerite and Monsieur de 
 Solis hesitated. 
 
 " Let us count it," he said. 
 
 " There are six thousand ducats," said Emmanuel. 
 
 " Seventy thousand francs," remarked Claes. 
 
 The glance which Marguerite threw at her lover gave 
 him courage. 
 
 " Monsieur," he said, *' your note bears no value ; 
 pardon this purely technical term. I have to-day lent 
 Mademoiselle Claes one hundred thousand francs to 
 redeem your notes of hand which you had no means of 
 paying : you are therefore unable to give me any secur- 
 ity. These one hundred and seventy thousand francs 
 
230 The Alkahest. 
 
 belong to Mademoiselle Claes, who can dispose of 
 them as she sees fit; but I have lent them on a 
 pledge that she will sign a deed securing them to me 
 on her share of the now denuded land of the forest 
 of Waignies." 
 
 Marguerite turned away her head that her lover might 
 not see the tears that gathered in her eyes. She knew 
 Emmanuel's purity of soul. Brought up by his uncle 
 to the practice of the sternest religious virtues, the 
 young man had an especial horror of falsehood : after 
 giving his heart and life to Marguerite Claes he now 
 made her the sacrifice of his conscience. 
 
 "Adieu, monsieur," said Balthazar, " I thought you 
 had more confidence in a man who looked upon you 
 with the eyes of a father." 
 
 After exchanging a despairing look with Marguerite, 
 Emmanuel was shown out by Martha, who closed and 
 fastened the street-door. 
 
 The moment the father and daughter were alone Claes 
 said, — 
 
 " You love me, do you not?" 
 
 '* Come to the point, father. You want this money : 
 you cannot have it." 
 
 She began to pick up the coins ; her father silently 
 helped her to gather them together and count the sum 
 she had dropped ; Marguerite allowed him to do so with- 
 out manifesting the least distrust. When two thousand 
 
The Alhahest. 231 
 
 ducats were piled on the table, Balthazar said, with a 
 desperate air, — 
 
 " Marguerite, I must have that money." 
 
 " If 3'Ou take it, it will be robber}^," she replied 
 coldly. *' Hear me, father: better kill us at one blow 
 than make us suffer a hundred deaths a day. Let it 
 now be seen which of us must yield." 
 
 " Do you mean to kill your father? " 
 
 *' We avenge our mother," she said, pointing to the 
 spot where Madame Claes died. 
 
 *' My daughter, if j^ou knew the truth of this matter, 
 you would not use those words to me. Listen, and I 
 will endeavor to explain the great problem — but no, 
 3'ou cannot comprehend me," he cried in accents of 
 despair. "Come, give me the money; believe for 
 once in j^our father. Yes, I know I caused your 
 mother pain: I have dissipated — to use the word of 
 fools — my own fortune and injured yours ; I know my 
 children are sacrificed for a thing you call madness ; 
 but my angel, m}^ darling, my love, my Marguerite, 
 hear me ! If I do not now succeed, I will give myself 
 up to 3'ou ; I will obey you as you are bound to obey 
 me ; I will do j^our will ; you shall take charge of all 
 my property ; I will no longer be the guardian of my 
 children ; I pledge myself to lay down my authorit}^ I 
 swear by your mother's memory ! " he cried, shedding 
 tears. 
 
232 The Alkahest. 
 
 Marguerite turned away her head, unable to bear the 
 sight. Claes, thinking she meant to yield, flung him- 
 self on his knees beside her. 
 
 " Marguerite, Marguerite ! give it to me — give it ! " 
 he cried. " What are sixty thousand francs against 
 eternal remorse? See, I shall die, this will kill me. 
 Listen, my word is sacred. If I fail now I will abandon 
 my labors ; I will leave Flanders, — France even, if you 
 demand it ; I will go away and toil like a day-laborer 
 to recover, sou by sou, the fortunes I have lost, and 
 restore to my children all that Science has taken from 
 them." 
 
 Marguerite tried to raise her father, but he per- 
 sisted in remaining on his knees, and continued, still 
 weeping : — 
 
 " Be tender and obedient for this last time ! If I do 
 not succeed, I will myself declare your hardness just. 
 You shall call me a fool ; you shall say I am a bad 
 father ; you may even tell me that I am ignorant and 
 incapable. And when I hear you say those words I 
 will kiss your hands. You may beat me, if you will, 
 and when you strike I will bless you as the best of 
 daughters, remembering that 3'ou have given me your 
 blood." 
 
 "If it were my blood, my Hfe's blood, I would give 
 it to you," she cried; " but can I let Science cut the 
 throats of my brothers and my sister? No. Cease, 
 
The Alkahest, 233 
 
 cease ! " she said, wiping her tears and pushing aside 
 her father's caressing hands. 
 
 " Sixty thousand francs and two months," he said, 
 rising in anger ; '' that is all I want : but my daughter 
 stands between me and fame and wealth. I curse 
 3^ou!" he went on; "you are no daughter of mine, 
 you are not a woman, you have no heart, you will 
 never be a mother or a wife ! — Give it to me, let 
 me take it, my little one, my precious child, I will love 
 you forever," — and he stretched his hand with a 
 movement of hideous energy towards the gold. 
 
 " I am helpless against physical force ; but God and 
 the great Claes see us now," she said, pointing to the 
 picture. 
 
 " Try to live, if you can, with your father's blood 
 upon you," cried Balthazar, looking at her with abhor- 
 rence. He rose, glanced round the room and slowl}^ 
 left it. When he reached the door he turned as a beg- 
 gar might have done and implored his daughter with a 
 gesture, to which she replied by a negative motion of 
 her head. 
 
 " Farewell, my daughter," he said, gently, " may you 
 live happy ! " 
 
 When he had disappeared. Marguerite remained in a 
 trance which separated her from earth ; she was no 
 longer in the parlor ; she lost consciousness of phj^s- 
 ical existence ; she had wings, and soared amid the 
 
234 The Alkahest. 
 
 immensities of the moral world, where Thought con- 
 tracts the limits both of Time and Space, where a 
 divine hand lifts the veil of the Future. It seemed 
 to her that days elapsed between each footfall of her 
 father as he went up the stairs ; then a shudder of 
 dread went over her as she heard him enter his cham- 
 ber. Guided by a presentiment which flashed into her 
 soul with the piercing keenness of Hghtning, she ran up 
 the stairway, without light, without noise, with the ve- 
 locity of an arrow, and saw her father with a pistol at 
 his head. 
 
 '^ Take all ! " she cried, springing towards him. 
 
 She fell into a chair. Balthazar, seeing her pallor, 
 began to weep as old men weep ; he became like a 
 child, he kissed her brow, he spoke in disconnected 
 words, he almost danced with joy, and tried to play 
 with her as a lover with a mistress who has made him 
 happy. 
 
 *' Enough, father, enough," she said ; " remember 
 your promise. If you do not succeed now, you pledge 
 yourself to obey me ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Oh, mother!" she cried turning towards Madame 
 Claes's chamber, ^' you would have given him all — 
 would 3'^ou not?" 
 
 '* Sleep in peace," said Balthazar, *' you are a good 
 daughter." 
 
The Alkahest 235 
 
 *' Sleep!" she said, *'the nights of my youth are 
 gone ; you have made me old, father, just as j^ou 
 slowly withered my mother's heart." 
 
 " Poor child, would I could re-assure you by explain- 
 ing the effects of the glorious experiment I have now 
 Imagined ! you would then comprehend the truth." 
 
 *' I comprehend our ruin," she said, leaving him. 
 
 The next morning, being a holiday, Emmanuel de 
 Soils brought Jean to spend the day. 
 
 " Well? " he said, approaching Marguerite anxiously. 
 
 " I yielded," she replied. 
 
 "My dear life," he said, with a gesture of melan- 
 choly joy, " if you had withstood him I should greatly 
 have admired you ; but weak and feeble, I adore you ! " 
 
 " Poor, poor Emmanuel ; what is left for us? " 
 
 "Leave the future to me," cried the young man, with 
 a radiant look ; " we love each other, and all is well." 
 
236 The AlJcahest 
 
 XIIL 
 
 Several months went by in perfect tranquillity. 
 Monsieur de Solis made Marguerite see that her petty 
 economies would never produce a fortune, and he ad- 
 vised her to live more at ease, by taking all that remained 
 of the sum which Madame Claes had intrusted to him 
 for the comfort and well-being of the household. 
 
 During these months Marguerite fell a prey to the 
 anxieties which beset her mother under like circum- 
 stances. However incredulous she might be, she had 
 come to hope in her father's genius. B}^ an inexplicable 
 phenomenon, many people have hope where they have 
 no faith. Hope is the flower of Desire, faith is the fruit 
 of Certaint}^ Marguerite said to herself, " If my father 
 succeeds, we shall be happ3\" Claes and Lemulquinier 
 alone said: "We shall succeed." Unhappil}^, from 
 day to da}" the Searcher's face grew sadder. Some- 
 times, when he came to dinner he dared not look at his 
 daughter ; at other times he glanced at her in triumph. 
 Marguerite emploj^ed her evenings in making young de 
 Solis explain to her many legal points and difficulties. 
 At last her masculine education was completed ; she 
 
The Alkahest, 237 
 
 was evidently preparing herself to execute the plan she 
 had resolved upon if her father were again vanquished 
 in his duel with the Unknown (X). 
 
 About the beginning of Jul}', Balthazar spent a whole 
 day sitting on a bench in the garden, plunged in gloomy 
 meditation. He gazed at the mound now bare of tulips, 
 at the windows of his wife's chamber ; he shuddered, no 
 doubt, as he thought of all that his search had cost him : 
 his movements betrayed that his thoughts were bus}^ 
 outside of Science. Marguerite brought her sewing 
 and sat beside him for a while before dinner. 
 
 " You have not succeeded, father?" 
 
 " No, my child." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Marguerite, in a gentle voice. " I will 
 not say one word of reproach ; we are both equally 
 guilt3^ I only claim the fulfilment of 3'our promise ; it 
 is surely sacred to you — you are a Claes. Your child- 
 ren will surround you with love and fiUal respect ; but 
 you now belong to me ; you owe me obedience. Do 
 not be uneasy ; m}^ reign will be gentle, and I will en- 
 deavor to bring it quickly to an end. Father, I am 
 going to leave you for a month ; I shall be busy with 
 your affairs ; for," she said, kissing him on his brow, 
 '' you are now my child. I take Martha with me ; to- 
 morrow Felicie will manage the household. The poor 
 child is only seventeen, and she will not know how to 
 resist you ; therefore be generous, do not ask her for 
 
238 The Alkahest. 
 
 money ; she has only enough for the barest necessaries 
 of the household. Take courage : renounce your labors 
 and 3^our thoughts for three or four j^ears. The great 
 problem may ripen towards discover}- ; by that time I 
 shall have gathered the money that is necessary to solve 
 it, — and 3-ou will solve it. Tell me, father, your queen 
 is clement, is she not ? " 
 
 " Then all is not lost? " said the old man. 
 
 " No, not if you keep your word." 
 
 *'I will obey you, my daughter," answered Claes, 
 with deep emotion. 
 
 The next day. Monsieur Conyncks of Cambrai came 
 to fetch his great- niece. He was in a travelling-car- 
 riage, and would only remain long enough for Mar- 
 guerite and Martha to make their last arrangements. 
 Monsieur Claes received his cousin with courtesy, but 
 he was evidently sad and humiliated. Old Conyncks 
 guessed his thoughts, and said with blunt frankness 
 while they were breakfasting: — 
 
 '* I have some of your pictures, cousin ; I have a 
 taste for pictures, — a ruinous passion, but we all have 
 our manias." 
 
 " Dear uncle ! " exclaimed Marguerite. 
 
 '' The world declares that you are ruined, cousin ; but 
 the treasure of a Claes is there," said Conyncks, tapping 
 his forehead, "and here," striking his heart; "don't 
 you think so? I count upon you : and for that reason. 
 
The Alkahest 289 
 
 having a few spare ducats in my wallet, I put them to 
 use in your service." 
 
 "Ah!" cried Balthazar, ''I will repay you with 
 treasures — " 
 
 *'The only treasures we possess in Flanders are pa- 
 tience and labor," replied Conyncks, sternly. "Our 
 ancestor has those words engraved upon his brow/' he 
 said, pointing to the portrait of Van Claes. 
 
 Marguerite kissed her father and bade him good-by, 
 gave her last directions to Josette and to Felicie, and 
 started with Monsieur Conyncks for Paris. The great- 
 uncle was a widower with one child, a daughter twelve 
 years old, and he was possessed of an immense fortune. 
 It was not impossible that he would take a wife ; con- 
 sequently, the good people of Douai believed that Ma- 
 demoiselle Claes would marry her great-uncle. The 
 rumor of this marriage reached Pierquin, and brought 
 him back in hot haste to the House of Claes. 
 
 Great changes had taken place in the ideas of that 
 clever speculator. For the last two j^ears society in 
 Douai had been divided into hostile camps. The no- 
 bilit}^ formed one circle, the bourgeoisie another; the 
 latter naturally inimical to the former. This sudden 
 separation took place, as a matter of fact, all over 
 France, and divided the countr}' into two warring na- 
 tions, whose jealous squabbles, always augmenting, were 
 among the chief reasons why the revolution of July, 
 
240 The Alkahest 
 
 1830, was accepted in the provinces. Between these 
 social camps, the one ultra-monarchical, the other ultra- 
 liberal, were a number of functionaries of various kinds, 
 admitted, according to their importance, to one or the 
 other of these circles, and who, at the moment of the fall 
 • of the legitimate power, were neutral. At the beginning 
 of the struggle between the nobilit}' and the bourgeoisie, 
 the royalist " cafes" displayed an unheard-of splendor, 
 and eclipsed the liberal " cafes " so brilliantly that these 
 gastronomic fetes were said to have cost the lives of 
 some of their frequenters who, like ill-cast cannon, were 
 unable to withstand such practice. The two societies 
 naturally became exclusive. 
 
 Pierquin, though rich for a provincial lawj^er, was 
 excluded from aristocratic circles and driven back upon 
 the bourgeoisie. His self-love must have suffered from 
 the successive rebuffs which he received when he felt 
 himself insensibly set aside by people with whom he 
 had rubbed shoulders up to the time of this social 
 change. He had now reached his fortieth year, the 
 last epoch at which a man who intends to marrj' can 
 think of a j^oung wife. The matches to which he was 
 able to aspire were all among the bourgeoisie, but am- 
 bition prompted him to enter the upper circle by means 
 of some creditable alliance. 
 
 The isolation in which the Claes family were now 
 living had hitherto kept them aloof from these social 
 
The Alkahest. 241 
 
 changes. Though Claes belonged to the old aristoc- 
 racy of the province, his preoccupation of mind pre- 
 vented him from sharing the class antipathies thus 
 created. However poor a daughter of the Claes might 
 be, she would bring to a husband the dower of social 
 vanity so eagerly desired by all parvenus. Pierquin 
 therefore returned to his allegiance, with the secret in- 
 tention of making the necessary sacrifices to conclude a 
 marriage which should realize all his ambitions. He 
 kept company with Balthazar and Felicie during Mar- 
 guerite's absence ; but in so doing he discovered, rather 
 late in the day, a formidable competitor in Emmanuel de 
 Soils. The property of the deceased abbe was thought 
 to be considerable, and to the eyes of a man who cal- 
 culated all the affairs of life in figures, the j^oung heir 
 seemed more powerful through his money than through 
 the seductions of the heart — as to which Pierquin never 
 made himself uneasy. In his mind the abbe's fortune 
 restored the de Soils name to all its pristine value. 
 Gold and nobility of birth were two orbs which reflected 
 lustre on one another and doubled the illumination. 
 
 The sincere affection which the young professor testi- 
 fied for Felicie, whom he treated as a sister, excited 
 Pierquin's spirit of emulation. He tried to eclipse Em- 
 manuel b}^ mingling a fashionable jargon and sundry 
 expressions of superficial gallantry with anxious elegies 
 
 and business airs which sat more naturally on his coun- 
 
 16 
 
242 The Alkahest, 
 
 tenance. When he declared himself disenchanted with 
 the world he looked at Felicie, as if to let her know 
 that she alone could reconcile hira with life. Felicie, 
 who received for the first time in her life the compliments 
 of a man, listened to this language, always sweet how- 
 ever deceptive ; she took emptiness for depth, and need- 
 ing an object on which to fix the vague emotions of her 
 heart, she allowed the lawyer to occupy her mind. En- 
 vious perhaps, though quite unconsciously, of the loving 
 attentions with which Emmanuel surrounded her sister, 
 she doubtless wished to be, like Marguerite, the object 
 of the thoughts and cares of a man. 
 
 Pierquin readily perceived the preference which Fe- 
 licie accorded him over Emmanuel, and to him it was a 
 reason why he should persist in his attentions ; so that 
 in the end he went further than he at first intended. 
 Emmanuel watched the beginning of this passion, false 
 perhaps in the lawyer, artless in Fehcie, whose future 
 was at stake. Soon, little colloquies followed, a few 
 words said in a low voice behind Emmanuel's back, 
 trifling deceptions which give to a look or a word a 
 meaning whose insidious sweetness may be the cause of 
 innocent mistakes. Relying on his intimacy with Fe- 
 licie, Pierquin tried to discover the secret -of Marguerite's 
 journey, and to know if it were really a question of her 
 marriage, and whether he must renounce all hope ; but, 
 notwithstanding his clums}'^ cleverness in questioning 
 
The Alkahest 243 
 
 them, neither Balthazar nor Felicie could give him 
 any light, for the good reason that they were in the 
 dark .themselves : Marguerite in taking the reins of 
 power seemed to have followed its maxims and kept 
 Silence as to her projects. 
 
 The gloomy sadness of Balthazar and his great de- 
 pression made it difficult to get through the evenings. 
 Though Emmanuel succeeded in making him play back- 
 gammon, the chemist's mind was never present ; during 
 most of the time this man, so great in intellect, seemed 
 simply stupid. Shorn of his expectations, ashamed of 
 having squandered three fortunes, a gambler without 
 money, he bent beneath the weight of ruin, beneath the 
 burden of hopes that were betra3'ed rather than annihi- 
 lated. This man of genius, gagged by dire necessity and 
 upbraiding himself, was a tragic spectacle, fit to touch 
 the hearts of the most unfeeling of men. Even Pierquin 
 could not enter without respect the presence of that 
 caged lion, whose eyes, full of baffled power, now calmed 
 by sadness and faded from excess of light, seemed to 
 proffer a prayer for charity which the mouth dared not 
 utter. Sometimes a lightning flash crossed that with- 
 ered face, whose fires revived at the conception of a 
 new experiment ; then, as he looked about the parlor, 
 Balthazar's eyes would fasten on the spot where his wife 
 had died, a film of tears rolled like hot grains of sand 
 across the arid pupils of his eyes, which thought had 
 
244 The Alkahest. 
 
 made immense, and his head fell forward on his breast. 
 Like a Titan he had lifted the world, and the world fell 
 on his breast and crushed him. 
 
 This gigantic grief, so manfully controlled, affected 
 Pierquin and Emmanuel powerfullj^, and each felt moved 
 at times to offer this man the necessary mone}^ to renew 
 his search, — so contagious are the convictions of genius ! 
 Both understood how it was that Madame Claes and 
 Marguerite had flung their all into the gulf; but reason 
 promptly checked this impulse of their hearts, and their 
 emotion was spent in efforts at consolation which still 
 further embittered the anguish of the doomed Titan. 
 
 Claes never spoke of his eldest daughter, and showed 
 no interest in her departure nor any anxiety as to her 
 silence in not writing either to him or to Fehcie. When 
 de Solis or Pierquin asked for news of her he seemed 
 annoyed. Did he suspect that Marguerite was working 
 against him? Was he humiliated at having resigned 
 the majestic rights of paternity to his own child ? Had 
 he come to love her less because she was now the father, 
 he the child? Perhaps there were many of these rea- 
 sons, many of these inexpressible feelings which float 
 like vapors through the soul, in the mute disgrace which 
 he laid upon Marguerite. However great may be the 
 great men of the earth, be they known or unknown, 
 fortunate or unfortunate in their endeavors, all have 
 littlenesses which belong to human nature. By a 
 
The Alkahest. 245 
 
 double misfortune they suffer through their greatness 
 not less than through their defects ; and perhaps Bal- 
 thazar needed to grow accustomed to the pangs of 
 wounded vanity. The life he was leading, the evenings 
 when these four persons met together in Marguerite's 
 absence, were full of sadness and vague, uneasy appre- 
 hensions. The days were barren like a parched-up soil ; 
 where, nevertheless a few flowers grew, a few rare con- 
 solations, though without Marguerite, the soul, the hope, 
 the strength of the family, the atmosphere seemed mist3\ 
 Two months went by in this way, during which Bal- 
 thazar awaited the return of his daughter. Marguerite 
 was brought back to Douai by her uncle who remained 
 at the house instead of returning to Cambrai, no doubt 
 to lend the weight of his authority to some coup d' Hat 
 planned by his niece. Marguerite's return was made a 
 family fete. Pierquin and Monsieur de Solis were in- 
 vited to dinner by Felicie and Balthazar. When the 
 travelling-carriage stopped before the house, the four 
 went to meet it with demonstrations of joy. Margue- 
 rite seemed happy to see her home once more, and her 
 e3^es filled with tears as she crossed the court-yard to 
 reach the parlor. When embracing her father she col- 
 ored like a guilty wife who is unable to dissimulate ; 
 but her face recovered its serenity as she looked at 
 Emmanuel, from whom she seemed to gather strength 
 to complete a work she had secretly undertaken. 
 
246 The Alkahest 
 
 NotwithstandiLg the gaj^et}^ which animated all pres- 
 ent during the dinner, father and daughter watched each 
 other with distrust and curiosity. Balthazar asked his 
 daughter no questions as to her stay in Paris, doubt- 
 less to preserve his parental dignity. Emmanuel de 
 Solis imitated his reserve ; but Pierquin, accustomed 
 to be told all family secrets, said to Marguerite, con- 
 cealing his curiosity under a show of liveliness : — 
 
 '* Well, my dear cousin, you have seen Paris and the 
 theatres — " 
 
 " I have seen little of Paris," she said ; " I did not 
 go there for amusement. The daj-s went by sadly, I 
 was so impatient to see Douai once more." 
 
 "Yes, if I had not been angry about it she would 
 not have gone to the Opera; and even there she was 
 uneasy," said Monsieur Conyncks. 
 
 It was a painful evening ; every one was embarrassed 
 and smiled vaguely with the artificial gayety which hides 
 such real anxieties. Marguerite and Balthazar were a 
 prey to cruel, latent fears which reacted on the rest. 
 As the hours passed, the bearing of the father and 
 daughter grew more and more constrained. Sometimes 
 Marguerite tried to smile, but her motions, her looks, the 
 tones of her voice betrayed a keen anxiety. Messieurs 
 Conyncks and de Solis seemed to know the meaning 
 of the secret feelings which agitated the noble girl, and 
 they appeared to encourage her by expressive glances. 
 
The Alkahest. 247 
 
 Balthazar, hurt at being kept from a knowledge of the 
 steps that had been taken on his behalf, withdrew little 
 hy little from his children and friends, and pointedly 
 kept silence. Marguerite would no doubt soon disclose 
 what she had decided upon for his future. 
 
 To a great man, to a father, the situation was intoler- 
 able. At his age a man no longer dissimulates in 
 his own family ; he became more and more thoughtful, 
 serious, and grieved as the hour approached when he 
 would be forced to meet his civil death. This evening 
 covered one of those crises in the inner life of man 
 which can only be expressed by imagery. The thunder- 
 clouds were gathering in the sky, people were laughing 
 in the fields ; all felt the heat and knew the storm was 
 coming, but they held up their heads and continued 
 on their way. Monsieur Conj'ncks was the first to 
 leave the room, conducted hy Balthazar to his cham- 
 ber. During the latter's absence Pierquin and Mon- 
 sieur de Solis went away. Marguerite bade the notary 
 good-night with much affection ; she said nothing to 
 Emmanuel, but she pressed his hand and gave him a 
 tearful glance. She sent Felicie away, and when Claes 
 returned to the parlor he found his daughter alone. 
 
 *' My kind father," she said in a trembling voice, 
 " nothing could have made me leave home but the 
 serious position in which we found ourselves ; but now, 
 after much anxiety, after surmounting the greatest 
 
 
 ^ 
 
248 The Alkahest 
 
 difficulties, I return with some chances of deliverance 
 for all of us. Thanks to your name, and to my uncle's 
 influence, and to the support of Monsieur de Solis, we 
 have obtained for you an appointment under govern- 
 ment as receiver of customs in Bretagne ; the place is 
 worth, they say, eighteen to twenty thousand francs a 
 3^ear. Our uncle has given bonds as yonv security. 
 Here is the nomination," she added, drawing a paper 
 from her bag. "Your life in Douai, in this house, 
 during the coming years of privation and sacrifice would 
 be intolerable to you. Our father must be placed in a 
 situation at least equal to that in which he has always 
 lived. I ask nothing from the salary you will receive 
 from this appointment ; emploj' it as you see fit. I will 
 only beg 3 ou to remember that we have not a penny of 
 income, and that we must live on what Gabriel can give 
 us out of his. The town shall know nothing of our 
 inner life. If you were still to live in this house you 
 would be an obstacle to the means my sister and I are 
 about to employ to restore comfort and ease to the 
 home. Have I abused the authority you gave me by 
 putting you in a position to remake your own fortune ? 
 In a few years, if you so will, you can easily become 
 the receiver-general." 
 
 " In other words, Marguerite," said Balthazar, gently, 
 ** you turn me out of my own house." 
 
 ''I do not deserve that bitter reproach," replied the 
 
. Tlie Alkahest. 249 
 
 daughter, quelling the tumultuous beatings of her heart. 
 " You will come back to us when you are able to live 
 in your native town in a manner becoming to your 
 dignity. Besides, father, I have your promise. You 
 are bound to obey me. My uncle has stayed here that 
 he might himself accompan}^ you to Bretagne, and not 
 leave 3'ou to make the journey alone." 
 
 " I shall not go," said Balthazar, rising ; '' I need no 
 help from any one to restore my property and pay what 
 I owe to my children." 
 
 '* It would be better, certainly," replied Marguerite, 
 calmly. *' But now I ask you to reflect on our respec- 
 tive situations, which I will explain in a few words. If 
 you stay in this house your children will leave it, so that 
 you may remain its master." 
 
 '' Marguerite ! " cried Balthazar. 
 
 *' In that case," she said, continuing her words with- 
 out taking notice of her father's anger, *' it will be 
 necessary to notify the minister of your refusal, if you 
 decide not to accept this honorable and lucrative post, 
 which, in spite of our many efforts, we should never 
 have obtained but for certain thousand-franc notes my 
 uncle slipped into the glove of a lady." 
 
 '' My children leave me ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " You must leave us or we must leave you," she 
 said. ''If I were j^our only child, I should do as my 
 mother did, without murmuring against my fate ; but 
 
250 The AUcahest, 
 
 my brothers and my sister shall not perish beside you 
 with hunger and despair. I promised it to her who 
 died there," she said, pointing to the place where her 
 mother's bed had stood. " We have hidden our troubles 
 from you ; we have suffered in silence ; our strength 
 is gone. My father, we are not on the edge of an 
 abyss, we are at the bottom of it. Courage is not suf- 
 ficient to drag us out of it ; our efforts must not be 
 incessantly brought to nought by the caprices of a 
 passion." 
 
 "My dear children," cried Balthazar, seizing Mar- 
 guerite's hand, " I will help you, I will work, I — " 
 
 *' Here is the means," she answered, showing him 
 the official letter. 
 
 *' But, my darling, the means you offer me are too 
 slow ; you make me lose the fruits of ten jxars' work, 
 and the enormous sums of money which my laboratory 
 represents. There," he said, pointing towards the gar- 
 ret, '' are our real resources." 
 
 Marguerite walked towards the door, saying, — 
 
 '' Father, you must choose." 
 
 " Ah ! my daughter, you are very hard," he replied, 
 sitting down in an armchair and allowing her to leave 
 him. 
 
 The next morning, on coming downstairs. Marguerite 
 learaed from Lemulquinier that Monsieur Claes had 
 gone out. This simple announcement turned her pale ; 
 
The Alkahest, 251 
 
 her face was so painfully significant that the old valet 
 remarked hastily : — 
 
 " Don't be troubled, mademoiselle ; monsieur said 
 he would be back at eleven o'clock to breakfast. He 
 did n't go to bed all night. At two in the morning he 
 was still standing in the parlor, looking through the 
 window at the laboratory. I was waiting up in the 
 kitchen ; I saw him ; he wept ; he is in trouble. Here 's 
 the famous month of July when the sun is able to en- 
 rich us all, and if you onl}^ would — " 
 
 " Enough,'* said Marguerite, divining the thoughts 
 that must have assailed her father's mind. 
 
 A phenomenon which often takes possession of per- 
 sons leading sedentary lives had seized upon Balthazar ; 
 his life depended, so to speak, on the places with which 
 it was identified ; his thought was so wedded to his 
 laboratory and to the house he lived in that both were 
 indispensable to him, — just as the Bourse becomes a 
 necessity to a stock-gambler, to whom the public holi- 
 days are so much lost time. Here were his hopes ; 
 here the heavens contained the only atmosphere in 
 which his lungs could breathe the breath of life. This 
 alliance of places and things with men, which is so 
 powerful in feeble natures, becomes almost t3Tannical 
 in men of science and students. To leave his house 
 was, for Balthazar, to renounce Science, to abandon the 
 Problem, — it was death. 
 
252 The Alkahest, 
 
 Marguerite was a prey to anxiety until the breakfast 
 hour. The former scene in which Balthazar had meant 
 to kill himself came back to her memory, and she 
 feared some tragic end to the desperate situation in 
 which her father was placed. She came and went rest- 
 lessly about the parlor, and quivered every time the 
 bell or the street-door sounded. 
 
 At last Balthazar returned. As he crossed the court- 
 yard Marguerite studied his face anxiously and could see 
 nothing but an expression of stormy grief. When he 
 entered the parlor she went towards him to bid him 
 good-morning ; he caught her affectionately round the 
 waist, pressed her to his heart, kissed her brow, and 
 whispered, — 
 
 " I have been to get my passport." 
 
 The tones of his voice, his resigned look, his feeble 
 movements, crushed the poor girl's heart; she turned 
 away her head to conceal her tears, and then, unable 
 to repress them, she went into the garden to weep at 
 her ease. During breakfast, Balthazar showed the 
 cheerfulness of a man who had come to a decision. 
 
 "So we are to start for Bretagne, uncle," he said 
 to Monsieur Conyncks. "I have always wished to go 
 there." 
 
 "It is a place where one can live cheaply," replied 
 the old man. 
 
 " Is our father going away ? " cried Felicia. 
 
The Alkahest. 253 
 
 Monsieur de Solis entered, bringing Jean. 
 
 '' You must leave him with me to-day," said Baltha- 
 zar, putting his son beside him. " I am going away 
 to-morrow, and I want to bid him good-b3\" 
 
 Emmanuel glanced at Marguerite, who held down her 
 head. It was a gloomy da}^ for the family ; every one 
 was sad, and tried to repress both thoughts and tears. 
 This was not an absence, it was an exile. All in- 
 stinctively felt the humiliation of the father in thus pub- 
 licly declaring his ruin by accepting an office and 
 leaving his family, at Balthazar's age. At this crisis he 
 was great, while Marguerite was firm ; he seemed to 
 accept nobly the punishment of faults which the tj'ran- 
 nous power of genius had forced him to commit. When 
 the evening was over, and father and daughter were 
 again alone, Balthazar, who throughout the day had 
 shown himself tender and affectionate as in the first 
 years of his fatherhood, held out his hand and said to 
 Marguerite with a tenderness that was mingled with 
 despair, — 
 
 *' Are 3'ou satisfied with your father? " 
 
 '' You are wortliy of him " said Marguerite, pointing 
 to the j)ortrait of Van Claes. 
 
 The next morning Balthazar, followed by Lemul- 
 quinier, went up to the laboratory, as if to bid farewell 
 to the hopes he had so fondl}- cherished, and which 
 in that scene of his toil were living things to him. 
 
254 Tlie Alkahest. 
 
 Master and man looked at each other sadly as they 
 entered the garret they were about to leave, perhaps 
 forever. Balthazar gazed at the various instruments 
 over which his thoughts so long had brooded ; each was 
 connected with some experiment or some research. 
 He sadly ordered Lemulquinier to evaporate the gases 
 and the dangerous acids, and to separate all substances 
 which might produce explosions. While taking these 
 precautions, he gave way to bitter regrets, like those 
 uttered by a condemned man before going to the 
 scaffold. 
 
 " Here," he said, stopping before a china capsule 
 in which two wires of a voltaic pile were dipped, '' is 
 an experiment whose results ought to be watched. If 
 it succeeds — dreadful thought ! — my children will 
 have driven from their home a father who could fling 
 diamonds at their feet. In a combination of carbon 
 and sulphur,'' he went on, speaking to himself, " car- 
 bon plays the part of an electro-positive substance ; 
 the crystallization ought to begin at the negative pole ; 
 and in case of decomposition, the carbon would crop 
 into crystals — " 
 
 " Ah ! is that how it would be? " said Lemulquinier, 
 contemplating his master with admiration. 
 
 "Now here," continued Balthazar, after a pause, 
 "the combination is subject to the influence of the 
 galvanic battery which may act — " 
 
The Alkahest. 255 
 
 " If monsieur wishes, I can increase its force." 
 
 ''No, no; leave it as it is. Perfect stillness and 
 time are the conditions of crystallization — " 
 
 " Confound it, it takes time enough, that crj^stalli- 
 zation," cried the old valet impatiently. 
 
 " If the temperature goes down, the sulphide of car- 
 bon will crystallize," said Balthazar, continuing to give 
 forth shreds of indistinct thoughts which were parts of 
 a complete conception in his own mind; "but if the 
 batter}^ works under certain conditions of which I am 
 ignorant — it must be watched carefully — it is quite 
 possible that — Ah! what am I thinking of? It is 
 no longer a question of chemistry, my friend ; we are 
 to keep accounts in Bretagne." 
 
 Claes rushed precipitately from the laboratory, and 
 went downstairs to take a last breakfast with his 
 family, at which Pierquin and Monsieur de Solis were 
 present. Balthazar, hastening to end the agony Science 
 bad imposed upon him, bade his children farewell and 
 got into the carriage with his uncle, all the family ac- 
 companj'ing him to the threshold. There, as Margue- 
 rite strained her father to her breast with a despairing 
 pressure, he whispered in her ear, " You are a good 
 girl ; I bear 3^ou no ill-will ; " then she darted through 
 the court-yard into the parlor, and flung herself on her 
 knees upon the spot where her mother had died, and 
 prayed to God to give her strength to accomplish the 
 
256 The Alkahest, 
 
 hard task that lay before her. She was already 
 strengthened by an inward voice, sounding in her 
 heart the encouragement of angels and the gratitude 
 of her mother, when her sister, her brother, Emmanuel, 
 and Pierquin came in, after watching the carriage until 
 it disappeared. 
 
The Alkahest 257 
 
 XIV. 
 
 **And now, mademoiselle, what do jou intend to 
 do ! " said Pierquin. 
 
 " Save the family," she answered simply. " We 
 own nearly thirteen hundred acres at Waignies. I in- 
 tend to clear them, divide them into three farms, put up 
 the necessary buildings, and then let them. I believe 
 that in a few years, with patience and great economj', 
 each of us," motioning to her sister and brother, " will 
 have a farm of over four hundred acres, which may bring 
 in, some day, a rental of nearly fifteen thousand francs. 
 Mj?- brother Gabriel will have this house, and all that 
 now stands in his name on the Grand-Livre, for his 
 portion. We shall then be able to redeem our father's 
 property and return it to him free from all encumbrance, 
 by devoting our incomes, each of us, to paying off his 
 debts." 
 
 "But, my dear cousin," said the lawyer, amazed at 
 Marguerite's understanding of business and her cool 
 judgment, "you will need at least two hundred thou- 
 sand francs to clear the land, build your houses, and 
 purchase cattle. Where will you get such a sum? " 
 
 17 
 
258 The Alkahest, 
 
 " That is where my difficulties begin," she said, look- 
 ing alternately at Pierquin and de Solis ; " I cannot ask 
 it from my uncle, who has already spent much money 
 for us and has given bonds as my father's security." 
 
 " You have friends ! " cried Pierquin, suddenly per- 
 ceiving that the demoiselles Claes were ' ' four-hundred- 
 thousand-franc girls," after all. 
 
 Emmanuel de Solis looked tenderly at Marguerite. 
 Pierquin, unfortunately for himself, was a notary still, 
 even in the midst of his enthusiasm, and he promptly 
 added, — 
 
 *' I will lend you. these two hundred thousand francs." 
 
 Marguerite and Emmanuel consulted each other with 
 a glance which was a flash of light to Pierquin ; Felicia 
 colored highlj-, much gratified to find her cousin as 
 generous as she desired him to be. She looked at her 
 sister, who suddenly guessed the fact that during her 
 absence the poor girl had allowed herself to be caught 
 by Pierquin's meaningless gallantries. 
 
 *' You shall only pay me five per cent interest," went 
 on the lawyer, " and refund the money whenever it is 
 convenient to do so ; I will take a mortgage on your 
 property. And don't be uneasy ; you shall only have 
 the outlay on your improvements to pay ; I will find 
 you trustworthy farmers, and do all your business 
 gratuitously, so as to help you like a good relation." 
 
 Emmanuel made Marguerite a sign to refuse the 
 
The Alkahest, 259 
 
 offer, but she was too much occupied in studying the 
 changes of her sister's face to perceive it. After a 
 shght pause, she looked at the notary with an amused 
 smile, and answered of her own accord, to the great joy 
 of Monsieur de Solis : — 
 
 " You are indeed a good relation, — I expected noth- 
 ing less of. you ; but an interest of five per cent would 
 delay our release too long. I shall wait till my brother 
 is of age, and then we will sell out what he has in the 
 Funds." 
 
 Pierquin bit his lip. Emmanuel smiled quietly. 
 
 " Felicie, my dear child, take Jean back to school ; 
 Martha will go with 3'ou," said Marguerite to her sister. 
 "Jean, my angel, be a good boy; don't tear your 
 clothes, for we shall not be rich enough to buy you as 
 many new ones as we did. Good-by, httle one ; study 
 hard." 
 
 Felicie carried off her brother. 
 
 " Cousin," said Marguerite to Pierquin, '* and you, 
 monsieur," she said to Monsieur de Solis, " I know you 
 have been to see my father during my absence, and I 
 thank you for that proof of friendship. You will not 
 do less I am sure for two poor girls who will be in need 
 of counsel. Let us understand each other* When I 
 am at home I shall receive you both with the greatest 
 pleasure, but when Felicie is here alone with Josette 
 and Martha, I need not tell you that she ought to see 
 
260 The Alkahest. 
 
 no one, not even an old friend or the most devoted of 
 relatives. Under the circumstances in which we are 
 placed, our conduct must be irreproachable. We are 
 vowed to toil and solitude for a long, long time." 
 
 There was silence for some minutes. Emmanuel, 
 absorbed in contemplation of Marguerite's head, seemed 
 dumb. Pierquin did not know what to say. He took 
 leave of his cousin with feelings of rage against himself; 
 for he suddenly perceived that Marguerite loved Em- 
 manuel, and that he, Pierquin, had just behaved like a 
 fool. 
 
 "Pierquin, my friend," he said, apostrophizing him- 
 self in the street, " if a man said you were an idiot he 
 would tell the truth. What a fool I am ! I 've got 
 twelve thousand francs a j^ear outside of mj business, 
 without counting what I am to inherit from my uncle 
 des Eacquets, which is likely to double my fortune 
 (not that I wish him dead, he is so economical), and 
 I 've had the madness to ask interest from Mademoi- 
 selle Claes ! I know those two are jeering at me now ! 
 I must n't think of Marguerite any more. No. After 
 all, Felicie is a sweet, gentle little creature, who will suit 
 me much better. Marguerite's character is iron; she 
 would want to rule me — and — she would rule me. 
 Come, come, let 's be generous ; I wish I was not so 
 much of a lawyer : am I never to get that harness off 
 my back ? Bless my soul ! I '11 begin to fall in love 
 
The Alkahest. 261 
 
 with Felicie, and I won't budge from that sentiment. 
 She will have a farm of four hundred and thirty acres, 
 which, sooner or later, will be worth twelve or fifteen 
 thousand francs a year, for the soil about Waignies is 
 excellent. Just let my old uncle des Racquets die, 
 poor dear man, and I '11 sell my practice and be a man 
 of leisure, with fifty — thou — sand — francs — a — year. 
 My wife is a Claes, I 'm allied to the great families. 
 The deuce ! we '11 see if those Courtevilles and Magal- 
 hens and Savaron de Savarus will refuse to come and 
 dine with a Pierquin-Claes-Molina-Nourho. I shall be 
 mayor of Douai ; I '11 obtain the cross, and get to be 
 deputy — in short, everything. Ha, ha ! Pierquin, my 
 boy, now keep yourself in hand ; no more nonsense, 
 because — j^es, on my word of honor — Felicie — Ma- 
 demoiselle Felicie Van Claes — loves you ! " 
 
 When the lovers were left alone Emmanuel held out 
 his hand to Marguerite, who did not refuse to put 
 her right hand into it. They rose with one impulse 
 and moved towards their bench in the garden ; but as 
 they reached the middle of the parlor, the lover could 
 not resist his joy, and, in a voice that trembled with 
 emotion, he said, — 
 
 " I have three hundred thousand francs of yours." 
 "What!" she cried, "did my poor mother in- 
 trust them to you? No? then where did you get 
 them." 
 
262 The Alkahest. 
 
 *' Oh, my Marguerite ! all that is mine is yours. Was 
 it not you who first said the word ' ourselves ' ? " 
 
 ''Dear Emmanuel!" she exclaimed, pressing the 
 hand which still held hers ; and then, instead of going 
 into the garden, she threw herself into a low chair. 
 
 " It is for me to thank you," he said, with the voice 
 of love, " since you accept all." 
 
 " Oh, m}'' dear beloved one," she cried, " this mo- 
 ment effaces many a grief and brings the happy future 
 nearer. Yes, I accept your fortune," she continued, 
 with the smile of an angel upon her lips, " I know the 
 way to make it mine." 
 
 She looked up at the picture of Van Claes as if call- 
 ing him to witness. The young man's eyes followed 
 those of Marguerite, and he did not notice that she took 
 a ring from her finger until he heard the words : — 
 
 " From the depths of our greatest misery one com- 
 fort rises. My father's indifference leaves me the free 
 disposal of myself," she said, holding out the ring. 
 "Take it, Emmanuel. My mother valued you — she 
 would have chosen you." 
 
 The young man turned pale with emotion and fell on 
 his knees beside her, offering in return a ring which he 
 always wore. 
 
 '"• This is my mother's wedding-ring," he said, kissing 
 it. " My Marguerite, am I to have no other pledge 
 than this?" 
 
The Alkahest. 263 
 
 She stooped a little till her forehead met his lips. 
 
 *'Alas, dear love," she said, greatly agitated, "are 
 we not doing wrong ? We have so long to wait ! " 
 
 " My uncle used to say that adoration was the daily 
 bread of patience, — he spoke of Christians who love 
 God. That is how I love 3'ou ; I have long mingled my 
 love for you with my love for Him. I am yours as I 
 am His." 
 
 They remained for a few moments in the power of 
 this sweet enthusiasm. It was the calm, sincere effu- 
 sion of a feeling which, like an overflowing spring, 
 poured forth its superabundance in little wavelets. 
 The events which separated these lovers produced a 
 melancholy which only made their happiness the keener, 
 giving it a sense of something sharp, like pain. 
 
 Felicie came back too soon. Emmanuel, inspired by 
 that delightful tact of love which discerns all feelings, 
 left the sisters alone, — exchanging a look with Mar- 
 guerite to let her know how much this discretion cost 
 him, how hungry his soul was for that happiness so 
 long desired, which had just been consecrated by the 
 betrothal of their hearts. 
 
 " Come here, little sister," said Marguerite, taking 
 Felicie round the neck. Then, passing into the garden 
 they sat down on the bench where generation after gen- 
 eration had confided to listening hearts their words of 
 love, their sighs of grief, their meditations and their 
 
264 The Alkahest. 
 
 projects. In spite of her sister's joyous tone and lively 
 manner, Felicie experienced a sensation that was very 
 like fear. Marguerite took her hand and felt it tremble. 
 
 *' Mademoiselle FeUcie," said the elder, with her lips 
 at her sister's ear. "I read your soul. Pierquin has 
 been here often in my absence, and he has said sweet 
 words to you, and you have listened to them." Felicie 
 blushed. " Don't defend yourself, my angel," continued 
 Marguerite, "it is so natural to love! Perhaps your 
 dear nature will improve his ; he is egotistical and self- 
 interested, but for all that he is a good man, and his 
 defects may even add to your happiness. He will love 
 you as the best of his possessions ; you will be a part 
 of his business affairs. Forgive me this one word, 
 dear love ; you will soon correct the bad habit he has 
 acquired of seeing money in everything, by teaching 
 him the business of the heart." 
 
 Felicie could oxAy kiss her sister. 
 
 "Besides," added Marguerite, "he has property; 
 and his family belongs to the highest and the oldest 
 bourgeoisie. But you don't think I would oppose your 
 happiness even if the conditions were less prosperous, 
 do you?" 
 
 Felicie let fall the words, " Dear sister." 
 
 "Yes, you may confide in me," cried Marguerite, 
 " sisters can surely tell each other their secrets." 
 
 These words, so full of heartiness, opened the way 
 
The Alhahest. 265 
 
 to one of those delightful conversations in which young 
 girls tell all. When Marguerite, expert in love, reached 
 an understanding of the real state of Felicie's heart, 
 she wound up their talk by saying : — 
 
 ''Well, dear child, let us make sure he truly loves 
 you, and — then — " 
 
 "Ah!" cried Felicie, laughing, "leave me to my 
 own devices ; I have a model before my eyes." 
 
 " Saucy child ! " exclaimed Marguerite, kissing her. 
 
 Though Pierquin belonged to the class of men who 
 regard marriage as the accomplishment of a social duty 
 and the means of transmitting property, and though he 
 was indifferent to which sister he should marr}^ so long 
 as both had the same name and the same dower, he did 
 perceive that the two were, to use his own expression, 
 "romantic and sentimental girls," adjectives emploj^ed 
 by commonplace people to ridicule the gifts which 
 Nature sows with grudging hand along the furrows of 
 humanity. The lawyer no doubt said to himself that 
 he had better swim with the stream ; and accordingly 
 the next da}' he came to see Marguerite, and took her 
 mysteriously into the little garden, wliere he began to 
 talk sentiment, — that being one of the clauses of the 
 primal contract which, according to social usage, must 
 precede the notarial contract. 
 
 " Dear cousin," he said, " you and I have not alwaj's 
 been of one mind as to the best means of bringing your 
 
266 The Alkahest. 
 
 affairs to a happy conclusion ; but you do now, I am 
 sure, admit that I have always been guided b}^ a great 
 desire to be useful to yoxx. Well, yesterday I spoiled 
 my offer by a fatal habit which the legal profession 
 forces upon us — 3^ou understand" me? My heart did 
 not share in the foll}^ I have loved jow well ; but 
 I have a certain perspicacity, legal perhaps, which 
 obliges me to see that I do not please you. It is my 
 own fault; another has been more successful than I. 
 Well, I come now to tell you, like an honest man, that 
 I sincerely love your sister Felicie. Treat me there- 
 fore as a brother ; accept my purse, take what you wiU 
 from it, — the more you take the better you prove your 
 regard for me. I am wholly at your service — without 
 interest y you understand, neither at twelve nor at one 
 quarter per cent. Let me be thought worthy of Felicie, 
 that is all I ask. Forgive my defects ; they come from 
 business habits ; my heart is good, and I would fling 
 myself into the Scarpe sooner than not make my wife 
 happy." 
 
 "This is all satisfactory, cousin," answered Mar- 
 guerite ; *' but my sister's choice depends upon herself 
 and also on my father's will." 
 
 "I know that, my dear cousin," said the law3^er, 
 "but you are the mother of the whole family; and I 
 have nothing more at heart than that you should judge 
 me rightly." 
 
TJie Alkahest. 267 
 
 This conversation paints the mind of the honest 
 notary. Later in life, Pierquin became celebrated by 
 his reply to the commanding officer at Saint-Omer, who 
 had invited him to be present at a military fete ; the 
 note ran as follows: "Monsieur Pierquin-Claes de 
 Molina-Nourho, mayor of the city of Douai, cheva- 
 lier of the Legion of honor, will have that of being 
 present, etc." 
 
 Marguerite accepted the lawyer's offer only so far as 
 it related to his professional services, so that she might 
 not in any degree compromise either her own dignity as 
 a woman, or her sister's future, or her father's authority. 
 
 The next day she confided Felicie to the care of 
 Martha and Josette (who vowed themselves body and 
 soul to their young mistress, and seconded all her econ- 
 omies) , and started herself for Waignies, where she be- 
 gan operations, which were judiciously overlooked and 
 directed by Pierquin. Devotion was now set down 
 as a good speculation in the mind of that worthy man ; 
 his care and trouble were in fact an investment, and he 
 had no wish to be niggardly in making it. First he 
 contrived to save Marguerite the trouble of clearing the 
 land and working the ground intended for the farms, 
 'le found three j^oung men, sons of rich farmers, 
 who were anxious to settle themselves in life, and he 
 succeeded, through the prospect he held out to them of 
 the fertility of the land, in making them take leases of 
 
268 The Alkahest 
 
 the three farms on which the buildings were to be con- 
 structed. To gain possession of the farms rent-free 
 for three years the tenants bound themselves to pay 
 ten thousand francs a year the fourth year, twelve 
 thousand the sixth 3^ear, and fifteen thousand for the 
 remainder of the term ; to drain the land, make the 
 plantations, and purchase the cattle. While the build- 
 ings were being put up the farmers were to clear the 
 land. 
 
 Four years after Balthazar Claes's departure from his 
 home Marguerite had almost recovered the property of 
 her brothers and sister. Two hundred thousand francs, 
 lent to her by Emmanuel, had sufficed to put up the 
 farm buildings. Neither help nor counsel was withheld 
 from the brave girl, whose conduct excited the admira- 
 tion of the whole town. Marguerite superintended the 
 buildings, and looked after her contracts and leases 
 with the good sense, activitj^, and perseverance, which 
 women know so well how to call up when they are ac- 
 tuated by a strong sentiment. By the fifth year she 
 was able to apply thirty thousand francs from the 
 rental of the farms, together with the income from 
 the Funds standing in her brother's name, and the pro- 
 ceeds of her father's property, towards paying off the 
 mortgages on that property and repairing the devasta- 
 tion which her father's passion had wrought in the old 
 mansion of the Claes. This redemption went on more 
 
The Alkahest, 269 
 
 rapidly as the interest account decreased. Emmanuel 
 de Solis persuaded Marguerite to take the remaining 
 one hundred thousand francs of his uncle's bequest, 
 and by joining to it twenty thousand francs of his own 
 savings, pay off in the third year of her management 
 a large slice of the debts. This life of courage, priva- 
 tion, and endurance was never relaxed for five years ; 
 but all went well, — everything prospered under the 
 administration and influence of Marguerite Claes. 
 
 Gabriel, now holding an appointment under govern- 
 ment as engineer in the department of Roads and 
 Bridges, made a rapid fortune, aided by his great- 
 uncle, in a canal which he was able to construct ; 
 moreover, he succeeded in pleasing his cousin Made- 
 moiselle Conyncks, the idol of her father, and one of 
 the richest heiresses in Flanders. In 1824 the whole 
 Claes property was free, and the house in the rue de 
 Paris had repaired its losses. Pierquin made a formal 
 application to Balthazar for the hand of Felicie, and 
 Monsieur de Solis did the same for that of Marguerite. 
 
 At the beginning of January, 1825, Marguerite and 
 Monsieur Conyncks left Douai to bring home the exiled 
 father, whose return was eagerly desired by all, and 
 who had sent in his resignation that he might return 
 to his family and crown their happiness by his presence. 
 Marguerite had often expressed a regret at not being 
 able to replace the pictures which had formerly adorned 
 
270 The Alkahest, 
 
 the gallery and the reception-rooms, before the day 
 when her father would return as master of his house. 
 In her absence Pierquin and Monsieur de Solis plotted 
 with Felicie to prepare a surprise which should make 
 the younger sister a sharer in the restoration of the 
 House of Claes. The two bought a number of fine pic- 
 tures, which they presented to Felicie to decorate the 
 gallery. Monsieur Conyncks had thought of the same 
 thing. Wishing to testify to Marguerite the satisfaction 
 he had taken in her noble conduct and in the self-devo- 
 tion with which she had fulfilled her mother's dying 
 mandate, he arranged that fifty of his fine pictures, 
 among them several of those which Balthazar had 
 formerly sold, should be brought to Douai in Margue- 
 rite's absence, so that the Claes gallery might once more 
 be complete. 
 
 During the years that had elapsed since Balthazar 
 Claes left his home. Marguerite had visited her father 
 several times, accompanied by her sister or by Jean. 
 Each time she had found him more and more changed ; 
 but since her last visit old age had come upon Baltha- 
 zar with alarming symptoms, the gravity of which was 
 much increased by the parsimonj^ with which he lived 
 that he might spend the greater part of his salary in ex- 
 periments the results of which forever disappointed him. 
 Though he was only sixty-five years of age, he appeared 
 to be eighty. His eyes were sunken in their orbits, his 
 
The Alkahest 271 
 
 eyebrows had whitened, only a few hairs remained as a 
 fringe around his skull ; he allowed his beard to grow, 
 and cut it off with scissors when its length annoyed 
 him; he was bent like a field-laborer, and the condi- 
 tion of his clothes had reached a degree of wretched- 
 ness which his decrepitude now rendered hideous. 
 Thought still animated that noble face, whose features 
 were scarcely discernible under its wrinkles ; but the 
 fixity of the eyes, a certain desperation of manner, a 
 restless uneasiness, were all diagnostics of insanity, or 
 rather of many forms of insanity. Sometimes a flash 
 of hope gave him the look of a monomaniac ; at other 
 times impatient anger at not seizing a secret which 
 flitted before his eyes like a will o' the wisp brought 
 symptoms of madness into his face ; or sudden bursts 
 of maniacal laughter betraj'ed his irrationality : but 
 during the greater part of the time, he was sunk in 
 a state of complete depression which combined all .the 
 phases of insanity in the cold melancholy of an idiot. 
 However fleeting and imperceptible these S3'mptoms 
 may have been to the eye of strangers, they were, 
 unfortunately, only too plain to those who had known 
 Balthazar Claes -sublime in goodness, noble in heart, 
 stately in person, — a Claes of whom, alas, scarcely a 
 vestige now remained. 
 
 Lemulquinier, grown old and wasted like his master 
 with incessant toil, had not, like him, been subjected to 
 
272 The Alkahest, 
 
 the ravages of thought. The expression of the old 
 valet's face showed a singular mixture of anxiety and 
 admiration for his master which might easily have 
 misled an onlooker. Though he listened to Balthazar's 
 words with respect, and followed his every movement 
 with tender solicitude, he took charge of the servant of 
 science very much as a mother takes care of her child, 
 and even seemed to protect him, because in the vulgar 
 details of life, to which Balthazar gave no thought, he 
 actually did protect him. These old men, wrapped in 
 one idea, confident of the reality of their hope, stirred 
 by the same breath, the one representing the shell, the 
 other the soul of their mutual existence, formed a spec- 
 tacle at once tender and distressing. 
 
 When Marguerite and Monsieur de Con3'ncks arrived, 
 they found Claes hving at an inn. His successor had 
 not been kept waiting, and was alreadj' in possession of 
 his office. 
 
The Alkahest, 273 
 
 XV. 
 
 Through all the preoccupations of science, the desire 
 to see his native town, his house, his family, agitated 
 Balthazar's mind. His daughter's letters had told him 
 of the happy family events ; he dreamed of crowning 
 his career by a series of experiments that must lead to 
 the solution of the great Problem, and he awaited Mar- 
 guerite's arrival with extreme impatience. 
 
 The daughter threw herself into her father's arms and 
 wept for joy. This time she came to seek a recompense 
 for years of pain, and pardon for the exercise of her 
 domestic authority. She seemed to herself criminal, like 
 those great men who violate the liberties of the people 
 for the safety of the nation. But she shuddered as she 
 now contemplated her father and saw the change which 
 had taken place in him since her last visit. Monsieur 
 Con3'ncks shared the secret alarm of his niece, and in- 
 sisted on taking Balthazar as soon as possible to Douai, 
 where the influence of his native place might restore 
 him to health and reason amid the happiness of a re- 
 covered domestic life. 
 
 18 
 
274 The AlkahesL 
 
 After the first transports of the heart were over, 
 — which were far warmer on Balthazar's part thaji 
 Marguerite had expected, — he showed a singular 
 state of feeling towards his daughter. He expressed 
 regret at receiving her in a miserable inn, inquired 
 her tastes and wishes, and asked what she would 
 have to eat, with the eagerness of a lover ; his man- 
 ner was even that of a culprit seeking to propitiate 
 a judge. 
 
 Marguerite knew her father so well that she guessed 
 the motive of this solicitude ; she felt sure he had con- 
 tracted debts in the town which he wished to pay before 
 his departure. She observed him carefully for a time, 
 and saw the human heart in all its nakedness. Bal- 
 thazar had dwindled from his true self. The conscious- 
 ness of his abasement, and the isolation of his life in the 
 pursuit of science made him timid and childish in all 
 matters not connected with his favorite occupations. 
 His daughter awed him ; the remembrance of her past 
 devotion, of the energy she liad displayed, of the powers 
 he had allowed her to take away from him, of the wealth 
 now at her command, and the indefinable feelings that 
 had preyed upon him ever since the day when he had 
 abdicated a paternity he had long neglected, — all these 
 things aflfected his mind towards her, and increased her 
 importance in his eyes. Conyncks was nothing to him 
 beside Marguerite ; he saw only his daughter, he thought 
 
The Alkahest 275 
 
 only of her, and seemed to fear her, as certain weak hus- 
 bands fear a superior woman who rules them. When 
 he raised his eyes and looked at her, Marguerite noticed 
 with distress an expression of fear, like that of a child 
 detected in a fault. The noble girl was unable to recon- 
 cile the majestic and terrible expression of that bald 
 head, denuded by science and by toil, with the puerile 
 smile, the eager servility exhibited on the lips and coun- 
 tenance of the old man. She suffered from the contrast 
 of that greatness to that littleness, and resolved to use 
 her utmost influence to restore her father's sense of dig- 
 nity before the solemn day on which he was to reappear 
 in the bosom of his famil3\ Her first step when they 
 were alone was to ask him, — 
 
 " Do 3'Ou owe anything here?" 
 
 Balthazar colored, and replied with an embarrassed 
 air: — 
 
 " I don't know, but Lemulquinier can tell yon. That 
 worthy fellow knows more about my affairs than I do 
 myself." 
 
 Marguerite rang for the valet: when he came she 
 studied, almost involuntaril}^, the faces of the two old 
 men. 
 
 '' What does monsieur want?" asked Lemulquinier. 
 
 Marguerite, who was all pride and dignity, felt an 
 oppression at her heart as she perceived from the 
 tone and manner of the servant that some mortifying 
 
276 The Alkahest, 
 
 familiarit3^ had grown up between her father and the 
 companion of his labors. 
 
 " My father cannot make out the account of what he 
 owes in this place without 3'ou," she said. 
 
 "Monsieur," began Lemulquinier, "owes — " 
 
 At these words Balthazar made a sign to his valet 
 which Marguerite intercepted ; it humiliated her. 
 
 " Tell me all that my father owes," she said. 
 
 "Monsieur owes, here, about three thousand francs 
 to an apothecary who is a wholesale dealer in drugs ; 
 he has supplied us with pearl-ash and lead, and zinc and 
 the reagents — " 
 
 " Is that all? " asked Marguerite. 
 
 Again Balthazar made a sign to Lemulquinier, who 
 replied, as if under a spell, — 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle." 
 
 u Very good," she said, " I will give them to you." 
 
 Balthazar kissed her jo3'ously and said, — 
 
 " You are an angel, my child." 
 
 He breathed at his ease and glanced at her with eyes 
 that were less sad ; and yet, in spite of this apparent 
 joy. Marguerite easily detected the signs of deep anx- 
 iety upon his face, and felt certain that the three thou- 
 sand francs represented only the pressing debts of his 
 laboratory. 
 
 " Be frank with me, father," she said, letting him seat 
 her on his knee ; " you owe more than that. Tell me 
 
The Alkahest. 271 
 
 all, and come back to 3'our home without an element of 
 fear in the midst of the general joy." 
 
 "My dear Marguerite," he said, taking her hands 
 and kissing them with a grace that seemed a memory 
 of his youth, " you would scold me — " 
 
 " No," she said. 
 
 "Truly?" he asked, giving way to childish expres- 
 sions of delight. " Can I tell you all ? will 3^ou pay — " 
 
 " Yes," she said, repressing the tears which came 
 into her ej-es. 
 
 " Well, I owe — oh ! I dare not — " 
 
 " Tell me, father." 
 
 " It is a great deal." 
 
 She clasped her hands, with a gesture of despair. 
 
 " I owe thirt}^ thousand francs to Messieurs Protez 
 and Chiffreville." 
 
 " Thirty thousand francs," she said, " is just the 
 sum I have laid by. I am glad to give it to 3'ou," she 
 added, respectfully kissing his brow. 
 
 He rose, took his daughter in his arms and whirled 
 about the room, dancing her as though she were an in- 
 fant ; then he placed her in the chair where she had 
 been sitting, and exclaimed : — 
 
 " My darling child! my treasure of love! I was 
 half-dead : the Chiffrevilles have written me three 
 threatening letters ; they were about to sue me, — 
 me, who would have made their fortune ! '' 
 
278 The Alkahest. 
 
 " Father," said Marguerite in accents of despair, 
 "are you still searching?" 
 
 " Yes, still searching," he said, with the smile of a 
 madman, " and I shall find. If you could only under- 
 stand the point we have reached — " 
 
 " We? who are we? " 
 
 *' I mean Mulquinier : he has understood me, he loves 
 me. Poor fellow ! he is devoted to me." 
 
 Conyncks entered at the moment and interrupted the 
 conversation. Marguerite made a sign to her father to 
 say no more, fearing lest he should lower himself in her 
 uncle's eyes. She was frightened at the ravages thought 
 had made in that noble mind, absorbed in searching for 
 the solution of a problem that was perhaps insoluble. 
 Balthazar, who saw and knew nothing outside of his 
 furnaces, seemed not to realize the liberation of his 
 fortune. 
 
 On the morrow they started for Flanders. During 
 the journey Marguerite gained some confused light 
 upon the position in which Lemulquinier and her father 
 stood to each other. The valet had acquired an as- 
 cendency over his master such as common men with- 
 out education are able to obtain over great minds to 
 whom they feel themselves necessary ; such men, tak- 
 ing advantage of concession after concession, aim at 
 complete dominion with the persistency that comes 
 of a fixed idea. In this case the master had contracted 
 
The Alkahest. 279 
 
 for the man the sort of affectioir that grows out of 
 habit, like that of a workman for his creative tool, or 
 an Arab for the horse that gives him freedom. Mar- 
 guerite studied the signs of this tyranny, resolving to 
 withdraw her father from its humiliating yoke if it were 
 real. 
 
 They stopped several days in Paris on the way home, 
 'to enable Marguerite to pay off her father's debts and 
 request the manufacturers of chemical products to send 
 nothing to Douai without first informing her of any 
 orders given by Claes. She persuaded her father to 
 change his style of dress and buy clothes that were 
 suitable to a man of his station. This corporal restor- 
 ation gave Balthazar a certain phj'sical dignity which 
 augured well for a change in his ideas ; and Marguerite, 
 joyous in the thought of all the surprises that awaited 
 her father when he entered his own house, started for 
 Douai. 
 
 Nine miles from the town Balthazar was met by 
 F^licie on horseback, escorted by her two brothers, 
 Emmanuel, Pierquin, and some of the nearest friends 
 of the three families. The journey had necessarily di- 
 verted the chemist's mind from its habitual thoughts ; 
 the aspect of his own Flanders acted on his heart ; when, 
 therefore, he saw the joj'ous company of his family and 
 friends gathering about him his emotion was so keen 
 that the tears came to his eyes, his voice trembled, his 
 
280 The Alkahest, 
 
 ej'elids reddened, and he held his children in so passion- 
 ate an embrace, seeming unable to release them, that 
 the spectators of the scene were moved to tears. 
 
 When at last he saw the House of Claes he turned 
 pale, and sprang from the carriage with the agility of a 
 young man ; he breathed the air of the court-yard with 
 delight, and looked about him at the smallest details 
 with a pleasure that could express itself only in ges- 
 tures : he drew himself erect, and his whole countenance 
 renewed its youth. The tears came into his eyes 
 when he entered the parlor and noticed the care with 
 which his daughter had replaced the old silver cande- 
 labra that he formerly had sold, — a visible sign that 
 all the other disasters had been repaired. Breakfast 
 was served in the dining-room, whose sideboards and 
 shelves were covered with curios and silver- ware not 
 less valuable than the treasures that formerly stood 
 there. Though the family meal lasted a long time, it 
 was still too short for the narratives whicH Balthazar 
 exacted from each of his children. The reaction of his 
 moral being caused hy this return to his home wedded 
 him once more to family happiness, and he was again 
 a father. His manners recovered their former dignity. 
 At first the delight of recove;iing possession kept him 
 from dwelling on the means by which the recovery had 
 been brought about. His joy therefore was full and 
 unalloyed. 
 
The Alkahest. 281 
 
 Breakfast over, the four children, the father and Pier- 
 quin went into the parlor, where Balthazar saw with 
 some uneasiness a number of legal papers which the 
 notary's clerk had laid upon a table, by which he was 
 standing as if to assist his chief. The children all sat 
 down, and Balthazar, astonished, remained standing 
 before the fireplace. 
 
 *' This," said Pierquin, " is the guardianship account 
 which Monsieur Claes renders to his children. It is 
 not very amusing," he added, laughing after the man- 
 ner of notaries who generally assume a lively tone in 
 speaking of serious matters, " but I must really oblige 
 you to listen to it." 
 
 Though the phrase was natural enough under the cir- 
 cumstances, Monsieur Claes, whose conscience recalled 
 his past life, felt it to be a reproach, and his brow 
 clouded. 
 
 The clerk began the reading. Balthazar's amazement 
 increased as little by little the statement unfolded the 
 facts. In the first place, the fortune of his wife at the 
 time of her decease was declared to have been sixteen 
 hundred thousand francs or thereabouts ; and the sum- 
 ming up of the account showed clearly that the portion 
 of each child was intact and as well-invested as if the 
 best and wisest father had controlled it. In consequence 
 of this the House of Claes was free from all lien, Bal- 
 thazar was master of it ; moreover, his rural property 
 
282 The AUcahest. 
 
 was likewise released from incumbrance. When all 
 the papers connected with these matters were signed, 
 Pierquin presented the receipts for the repayment of 
 the moneys formerly borrowed, and releases of the vari- 
 ous liens on the estates. 
 
 Balthazar, conscious that he had recovered the honor 
 of his manhood, the life of a father, the dignity of a 
 citizen, fell into a chair, and looked about for Margue- 
 rite ; but she, with the instinctive delicacy of her sex, 
 had left the room during the reading of the papers, as if 
 to see that all the arrangements for the fete were prop- 
 erl}^ prepared. Each member of the family understood 
 the old man's wish when the failing humid eyes sought 
 for the daughter, — who was seen by all present, with the 
 eyes of the soul, as an angel of strength and light within 
 the house. Gabriel went to find her. Hearing her step, 
 Balthazar ran to clasp her in his arms. 
 
 "Father," she said, at the foot of the stairs, where 
 the old man caught her and strained her to his breast, 
 " I implore you not to lessen your sacred authority'. 
 Thank me before the family for carrying out your 
 wishes, and be the sole author of the good that has 
 been done here." 
 
 Balthazar lifted his eyes to heaven, then looked at 
 his daughter, folded his arms, and said, after a pause, 
 during which his face recovered an expression his child- 
 ren had not seen upon it for ten long years, — 
 
The Alkahest. 283 
 
 " Pepita, why are you not here to praise our child ! " 
 
 He strained Marguerite to him, unable to utter an- 
 other word, and went back to the parlor. 
 
 " My children," he said, with the nobility of demeanor 
 that in former days had made him so imposing, '* we 
 all owe gratitude and thanks to my daughter Marguerite 
 for the wisdom and courage with which she has fulfilled 
 my intentions and carried out my plans, when I, too ab- 
 sorbed by my labors, gave the reins of our domestic 
 government into her hands." 
 
 "Ah, now!" cried Pierquin, looking at the clock, 
 ''we must read the marriage contracts. But they are 
 not my affair, for the law forbids me to draw up sucli 
 deeds between my relations and myself. Monsieur 
 Raparlier is coming." 
 
 The friends of the family, invited to the dinner given 
 to celebrate Claes's return and the signing of the mar- 
 riage contracts, now began to arrive ; and their ser- 
 vants brought in the wedding-presents. The company 
 quickly assembled, and the scene was imposing as 
 much from the quality of the persons present as from 
 the elegance of the toilettes. The three families, thus 
 united through the happiness of their children, seemed 
 to vie with each other in contributing to the splendor 
 of the occasion. The parlor was soon filled with the 
 charming gifts that are made to bridal couples. Gold 
 shimmered and glistened ; silks and satins, cashmere 
 
284 The Alkahest. 
 
 shawls, necklaces, jewels, afforded as much delight to 
 those who gave as to those who received ; enjoyment 
 that was almost childlike shone on every face, and the 
 mere value of the magnificent presents was lost sight 
 of by the spectators, — who often busy themselves in 
 estimating it out of curiosity. 
 
 The ceremonial forms used for generations in the 
 Claes family for solemnities of this nature now began. 
 The parents alone were seated, all present stood be- 
 fore them at a little distance. To the left of the par- 
 lor on the garden side were Gabriel and Mademoiselle 
 Conyncks, next to them stood Monsieur de Solis and 
 Marguerite, and farther on, Felicie and Pierquin. Bal- 
 thazar and Monsieur Conyncks, the only persons who 
 were seated, occupied two armchairs beside the notary 
 who, for this occasion, had taken Pierquin's duty. Jean 
 stood behind his father. A score of ladies elegantly 
 dressed, and a few men chosen from among the nearest 
 relatives of the Pierquins, the Conyncks, and the Claes, 
 the mayor of Douai, who was to marry the couples, 
 the twelve witnesses chosen from among the nearest 
 friends of the three families, all, even the curate of 
 Saint-Pierre, remained standing and formed an impos- 
 ing circle at the end of the parlor next the court-yard. 
 This homage paid b3" the whole assemblj^ to Paternity, 
 which at such a moment shines with almost regal ma- 
 jesty, gave to the scene a certain antique character. It 
 
The Alkahest. 285 
 
 was the only moment for sixteen long years when Bal- 
 thazar forgot the Alkahest. 
 
 Monsieur Kaparlier went up to Marguerite and her 
 sister and asked if all the persons invited to the cere- 
 mony and to the dinner had arrived ; on receiving an 
 affirmative reply, he returned to his station and took 
 up the marriage contract between Marguerite and Mon- 
 sieur de Solis, which was the first to be read, when sud- 
 denly the door of the parlor opened and Lemulquinier 
 entered, his face flaming. 
 
 *' Monsieur! monsieur!" he cried. 
 
 Balthazar flung a look of despair at Marguerite, then, 
 making her a sign, he drew her into the garden. The 
 whole assembly were conscious of a shock. 
 
 "I dared not tell you, my child," said the father, 
 *' but since you have done so much, you will save me, I 
 know, from this last trouble. Lemulquinier lent me all 
 his savings — the fruit of twenty 3'ears' economy — for 
 my last experiment, which failed. He has come, no 
 doubt, finding that I am once more rich, to insist on 
 having them back. Ah ! my angel, give them to him ; 
 you owe him your father ; he alone consoled me in my 
 troubles, he alone has had faith in me, — without him I 
 should have died." 
 
 "Monsieur! monsieur!" cried Lemulquinier. 
 
 " What is it?" said Balthazar, turning round. 
 
 "A diamond ! " 
 
286 The Alkahest. 
 
 Claes sprang into the parlor and saw the stone in the 
 hands of the old valet, who whispered in his ear, — 
 
 " I have been to the laboratory." 
 
 The chemist, forgetting everything about him, cast a 
 terrible look on the old Fleming which meant, "You 
 went before me to the laboratory ! " 
 
 "Yes," continued Lemulquinier, "I found the dia- 
 mond in the china capsule which communicated with 
 the battery which we 'left to work, monsieur — and 
 see ! " he added, showing a white diamond of octahe- 
 dral form, whose brilliancy drew the astonished gaze of 
 all present. 
 
 " My children, my friends," said Balthazar, "forgive 
 my old servant, forgive me ! This event will drive me 
 mad. The chance work of seven years has produced — 
 without me — a discovery I have sought for sixteen 
 years. How? My God, I know not — yes, I left sul- 
 phide of carbon under the influence of a Voltaic pile, 
 whose action ought to have been watched from day to 
 day. During my absence the power of God has worked 
 in my laboratory, but I was not there to note its pro- 
 gressive effects! Is it not awful? Oh, cursed exile! 
 cursed chance ! Alas ! had I watched that slow, that 
 sudden — what can I call it? — crystallization, trans- 
 formation, in short that miracle, then, then my chil- 
 dren would have been richer still. Though this result 
 is not the solution of the Problem which I seek, the 
 
The Alkahest, 287 
 
 first rays of my glory would have shone from that dia- 
 mond upon my native country, and this hour, which 
 our satisfied affections have made so happy, would 
 have glowed with the sunlight of Science." 
 
 Every one kept silence in the presence of such a 
 man. The disconnected words wrung from him by 
 his anguish were too sincere not to be sublime. 
 
 Suddenly, Balthazar drove back his despair into the 
 depths of his own being, and cast upon the assembly a 
 majestic look which affected the souls of all ; he took 
 the diamond and offered it to Marguerite, sa^'ing, — 
 
 " It is thine, my angel." 
 
 Then he dismissed Lemulquinier with a gesture, and 
 motioned to the notary, sajing, " Go on." 
 
 The two words sent a shudder of emotion through 
 the company such as Talma in certain roles produced 
 among his auditors. Balthazar, as he reseated himself, 
 said in a low voice, — 
 
 " To-day I must be a father only." 
 
 Marguerite hearing the words went up to him and 
 caught his hand and kissed it respectfully. 
 
 "No man was ever greater," said Emmanuel, when 
 his bride returned to him; "no man was ever so 
 mighty ; another would have gone mad." 
 
 After the three contracts were read and signed, the 
 company hastened to question Balthazar as to the 
 manner in which the diamond had been formed ; but 
 
288 The Alkahest 
 
 he could tell them nothing about so strange an acci- 
 dent. He looked through the window at his garret and 
 pointed to it with an angry gesture. 
 
 "Yes, the awful power resulting from a movement 
 of fiery matter which no doubt produces metals, dia- 
 monds," he said, " was manifested there for one mo- 
 ment, by one chance." 
 
 "That chance was of course some natural effect," 
 whispered a guest belonging to the class of people who 
 are ready with an explanation of everything. " At 
 any rate, it is something saved out of all he has 
 wasted." 
 
 " Let us forget it," said Balthazar, addressing his 
 friends ; "I beg you to say no more about it to-day." 
 
 Marguerite took her father's arm to lead the way to 
 the reception-rooms of the front house, where a sump- 
 tuous fete had been prepared. As he entered the gal- 
 lery, followed by his guests, he beheld it filled with 
 pictures and garnished with choice flowers. 
 
 " Pictures ! " he exclaimed, " pictures ! — and some 
 of the old ones ! " 
 
 He stopped short ; his brow clouded ; for a mo- 
 ment grief overcame him ; he felt the weight of his 
 wrong-doing as the vista of his humiliation came before 
 his ej^es. 
 
 " It is all your own, father," said Marguerite, guess- 
 ing the feelings that oppressed his soul. 
 
The Alkahest, 289 
 
 ** Angel, whom the spirits in heaven watch and 
 praise," he cried, "how many times have you given 
 life to your father?" 
 
 " Then keep no cloud upon your brow, nor the least 
 sad thought in your heart," she said, *' and you will 
 reward me beyond my hopes. I have been thinking of 
 Lemulquinier, my darling father; the few words you 
 said a little while ago have made me value him ; per- 
 haps I have been unjust to him ; he ought to remain 
 your humble friend. Emmanuel has laid by nearlj^ 
 sixty thousand francs which he has economized, and we 
 will give them to Lemulquinier. After serving you so 
 well the man ought to be made comfortable for his 
 remaining j-ears. Do not be uneasy about us. Mon- 
 sieur de Solis and I intend to lead a quiet, peaceful 
 life, — a life without luxury ; we can well afford to 
 lend you that money until you are able to return it." 
 
 "Ah, my daughter! never forsake me; continue to 
 be thy father's providence." 
 
 When they entered the reception-rooms Balthazar 
 
 found them restored and furnished as elegantly as in 
 
 former days. The guests presently descended to the 
 
 dining-room on the ground-floor by the grand staircase, 
 
 on every step of which were rare plants and flowering 
 
 shrubs. A sUver service of exquisite workmanship, 
 
 the gift of Gabriel to his father, attracted all eyes 
 
 to a luxury which was surprisiug to the inhabitants of 
 
 19 
 
290 The Alkahest. 
 
 a town where such luxury is traditional. The servants 
 of Monsieur Cony neks and of Pierquin, as well as those 
 of the Claes household, were assembled to serve the 
 repast. Seeing himself once more at the head of that 
 table, surrounded by friends and relatives and happy 
 faces beaming with heartfelt jo}', Balthazar, behind 
 whose chair stood Lemulquinier, was overcome by emo- 
 tions so deep and so imposing that all present kept 
 silence, as men are silent before great sorrows or 
 great joys. 
 
 '' Dear children," he cried, " you have killed the 
 fatted calf to welcome home the prodigal father." 
 
 These words, in which the father judged himself (and 
 perhaps prevented others from judging him more se- 
 verely), were spoken so nobly that all present shed 
 tears ; they were the last expression of sadness, how- 
 ever, and the general happiness soon took on the merry, 
 animated character of a family fete. 
 
 Immediately after dinner the principal people of the 
 city began to arrive for the ball, which proved worthy 
 of the almost classic splendor of the restored House of 
 Claes. The three marriages followed this happy day, 
 and gave occasion to many fetes, and balls, and din- 
 ners, which involved Balthazar for some months in the 
 vortex of social life. His eldest son and his wife re- 
 moved to an estate near Cambrai belonging to Mon- 
 sieur Conyncks, who was unwilhng to separate from his 
 
The Alkahest. 291 
 
 daughter. Madame Pierquin also left her fathers house 
 to do the honors of a fine mansion which Pierquin had 
 built, and where he desired to live in all the dignity 
 of rank ; for his practice was sold, and his uncle des 
 Racquets had died and left him a large property scraped 
 together by slow economy. Jean went to Paris to finish 
 his education, and Monsieur and Madame de Solis alone 
 remained with their father in the House of Claes. Bal- 
 thazar made over to them the family home in the rear 
 house, and took up his own abode on the second floor 
 of the front building. 
 
292 The Alkahest. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Marguerite continued to keep watch over her father's 
 material comfort, aided in the sweet task by Emman- 
 uel. The noble girl received from the hands of love 
 that most envied of all garlands, the wreath that happi- 
 ness entwines and constancy keeps ever fresh. No 
 couple ever afforded a better illustration of the com- 
 plete, acknowledged, spotless felicity which all women 
 cherish in their dreams. The union of two beings so 
 courageous in the trials of life, who had loved each 
 other through years with so sacred an affection, drew 
 forth the respectful admiration of the whole community. 
 Monsieur de SoHs, who had long held an appointment 
 as inspector-general of the University, resigned those 
 functions to enjoy his happiness more freely, and re- 
 mained at Douai where every one did such homage to 
 his character and attainments that his name was pro- 
 posed as candidate for the Electoral college whenever 
 he should reach the required age. Marguerite, who had 
 shown herself so strong in adversity, became in pros- 
 perity a sweet and tender woman. 
 
 Throughout the following year Claes was gi'ave and 
 
The Alkahest, 293 
 
 preoccupied ; and yet, though he made a few inexpen- 
 sive experiments for which his ordinary income sufficed, 
 he seemed to neglect his laboratory. Marguerite re- 
 stored all the old customs of the House of Claes, and 
 gave a family fete every month in honor of her father, at 
 which the Pierquins and the Conyncks were present; 
 and she also received the upper ranks of society one 
 day in the week at a " cafe " which became celebrated. 
 Though frequently absent-minded, Claes took part in 
 all these assemblages and became, to please his daugh- 
 ter, so willingly a man of the world that the family 
 were able to believe he had renounced his search for 
 the solution of the great problem. 
 
 Three years went by. In 1828 family affairs called 
 Emmanuel de Solis to Spain. Although there were 
 three numerous branches between himself and the in- 
 heritance of the house of Solis, 3'ellow fever, old age, 
 barrenness, and other caprices of fortune, combined to 
 make him the last lineal descendant of the family and 
 heir to the titles and estates of his ancient house. 
 Moreover, by one of those curious chances which seem 
 impossible except in a book, the house of Solis had 
 acquired the territory and titles of the Comtes de 
 Nourho. Marguerite did not wish to separate from her 
 husband, who was to stay in Spain long enough to settle 
 his affairs, and she was, moreover, curious to see the 
 castle of Casa-Real where her mother had passed her 
 
294 The Alkahest, 
 
 childhood, and the city of Granada, the cradle of the 
 de Soils family. She left Douai, consigning the care 
 of the house to Martha, Josette, and Lemulquinier. 
 Balthazar, to whom Marguerite had proposed a journey 
 into Spain, declined to accompany her on the ground 
 of his advanced age ; but certain experiments which 
 he had long meditated, and to which he now trusted 
 for the realization of his hopes were the real reason of 
 his refusal. 
 
 The Comte and Comtesse de Soils y Nourho were 
 detained in Spain longer than they intended. Mar- 
 guerite gave birth to a son. It was not until the middle 
 of 1830 that they reached Cadiz, intending to embark 
 for Italy on their way back to France. Thei*e, how- 
 ever, they received a letter from Felicie conveying 
 disastrous news. Within a few months, their father 
 had completely ruined himself. Gabriel and Pierquin 
 were obliged to pay Lemulquinier a monthly stipend 
 for the bare necessaries of the household. The old 
 valet had again sacrificed his little property to his mas- 
 ter. Balthazar was no longer willing to see any one, 
 and would not even admit his children to the house. 
 Martha and Josette were dead. The coachman, the 
 cook, and the other servants had long been dismissed ; 
 the horses and carriages were sold. Though Lemul- 
 quinier maintained the utmost secrecy as to his master's 
 proceedings, it was believed that the thousand francs 
 
The Alkahest. 295 
 
 supplied by Gabriel and Pierquin were spent chiefly 
 on experiments. The small amount of provisions which 
 the old valet purchased in the town seemed to show 
 that the two old men contented themselves with the 
 barest necessaries. To prevent the sale of the House 
 of Claes, Gabriel and Pierquin were paying the interest 
 of the sums which their father had again borrowed on it. 
 None of his children had the slightest influence upon 
 the old man, who at seventy j^ears of age displayed ex- 
 traordinary energy in bending ever\'thing to his will, 
 even in matters that were trivial. Gabriel, Conyncks, 
 and Pierquin had decided not to pay off his debts. 
 
 This letter changed all Marguerite's travelling plans, 
 and she immediately took the shortest road to Douai. 
 Her new fortune and her past savings enabled her to 
 pay off Balthazar's debts ; but she wished to do more, 
 she wished to obey her mother's last injunction and 
 save him from sinking dishonored to the grave. She 
 alone could exercise enough ascendency over the old 
 man to keep him from completing the work of ruin, at 
 an age when no fruitful toil could be expected from his 
 enfeebled faculties. But she was also anxious to con- 
 trol him without wounding his susceptibilities, — not 
 wishing to imitate the children of Sophocles, in case her 
 father neared the scientific result for which he had 
 sacrificed so much. 
 
 Monsieur and Madame de Soils reached Flanders in 
 
296 The Alkahest. 
 
 the last days of September, 1831, and arrived at Douai 
 during the morning. Marguerite ordered the coachman 
 to drive to the house in the rue de Paris, which they 
 found closed. The bell was loudly rung, but no one 
 answered. A shopkeeper left his door-step, to which 
 he had been attracted by the noise of the carriages ; 
 others were at their windows to enjoy a sight of the re- 
 turn of the de SoHs family to whom all were attached, 
 enticed also by a vague curiosity as to what would 
 happen in that house on Marguerite's return to it. The 
 shopkeeper told Monsieur de Solis's valet that old 
 Claes had gone out an hour before, and that Monsieur 
 Lemulquinier was no doubt taking him to walk on the 
 ramparts. 
 
 Marguerite sent for a locksmith to force the door, — 
 glad to escape a scene in case her father, as Felicie had 
 written, should refuse to admit her into the house. 
 Meantime Emmanuel went to meet the old man and 
 prepare him for the arrival of his daughter, despatching 
 a servant to notify Monsieur and Madame Pierquin. 
 
 When the door was opened, Marguerite went di- 
 rectly to the parlor. Horror overcame her and she 
 trembled when she saw the walls as bare as if a fire had 
 swept over them. The glorious carved panellings of 
 Van Huysum and the portrait of the great Claes had been 
 sold. The dining-room was empty : there was nothing 
 in it but two straw chairs and a common deal table, on 
 
The Alkahest, 297 
 
 which Marguerite, terrified, saw two plates, two bowls, 
 two forks and spoons, and the remains of a salt herring 
 which Claes and his servant had evidently just eaten. 
 In a moment she had flown through her father's portion 
 of the house, every room of which exhibited the same 
 desolation as the parlor and dining-room. The idea of 
 the Alkahest had swept like a conflagration through the 
 building. Her father's bedroom had a bed, one chair, 
 and one table, on which stood a miserable pewter can- 
 dlestick with a tallow candle burned almost to the 
 socket. The house was so completely stripped that 
 not so much as a curtain remained at the windows. 
 Every object of the smallest value, — everything, even 
 the kitchen utensils, had been sold. 
 
 Moved by that feeling of curiosity which never en- 
 tirely leaves us even in moments of misfortune, Mar- 
 guerite entered Lemulquinier's chamber and found it as 
 bare as that of his master. In a half-opened table- 
 drawer she saw a pawnbroker's ticket for the old ser- 
 vant's watch which he had pledged some days before. 
 She ran to the laboratory and found it filled with scien- 
 tific instruments, the same as ever. Then she returned 
 to her own appartement and ordered the door to be 
 broken open — her father had respected it ! 
 
 Marguerite burst into tears and forgave her father all. 
 In the midst of his devastating fury he had stopped 
 short, restrained by paternal feeling and the gratitude 
 
298 The Alkahest 
 
 he owed to his daughter ! This proof of tenderness, 
 coming to her at a moment when despair had reached 
 its climax, brought about in Marguerite's soul one of 
 those moral reactions against which the coldest hearts 
 are powerless. She returned to the parlor to wait her 
 father's arrival, in a state of anxiety that was cruelly 
 aggravated by doubt and uncertainty. In what condi- 
 tion was she about to see him ? Ruined, decrepit, suf- 
 fering, enfeebled by the fasts his pride compelled him 
 to undergo ? Would he have his reason ? Tears flowed 
 unconsciously from her eyes as she looked about the 
 desecrated sanctuary. The images of her whole life, 
 her past eflbrts, her useless precautions, her childhood, 
 her mother happy and unhappy, — aU, even her little 
 Joseph smiling on that scene of desolation, all were 
 parts of a poem of unutterable melancholy. 
 
 Marguerite foresaw an approaching misfortune, j^et 
 she little expected the catastrophe which was about to 
 close her father's life, — that life at once so grand and 
 yet so miserable. 
 
 The condition of Monsieur Claes was no secret in the 
 community. To the lasting shame of men, there were 
 not in all Douai two hearts generous enough to do 
 honor to the perseverance of this man of genius. In 
 the eyes of the world Balthazar was a man to be con- 
 demned, a bad father who had squandered six fortunes, 
 millions, who was actually seeking the philosopher's 
 
The Alkahest. 299 
 
 stone in the nineteenth centnr}^ this enlightened cen- 
 tury, this sceptical century, this century ! — etc. They 
 calumniated his purposes and branded him with the 
 name of " alchemist," casting up to him in mockery 
 that he was trying to make gold. Ah ! what eulogies 
 are uttered on this great century of ours, in which, as 
 in all the others, genius is smothered under an indiffer- 
 ence as brutal as that of the age in which Dante died, 
 and Tasso and Cervantes and tutti quanti. The people 
 are as backward as kings in understanding the creations 
 of genius. 
 
 These opinions on the subject of Balthazar Claes 
 filtered, little by little, from the upper society of Douai 
 to the bourgeoisie, and from the bourgeoisie to the lower 
 classes. The old chemist excited pity among persons 
 of his own rank, satirical curiosity among the others, 
 — two sentiments big with contempt and with the vae 
 victis with which the masses assail a man of genius 
 when they see him in misfortune. Persons often stopped 
 before the House of Claes to show each other the rose 
 window of the garret where so much gold and so much 
 coal had been consumed in smoke. When Balthazar 
 passed along the streets they pointed to him with their 
 fingers ; often, on catching sight of him, a mocking jest 
 or a word of pit}^ would escape the Hps of a working- 
 man or some miere child. But Lemulquinier was care- 
 ful to tell his master it was homage ; he could deceive 
 
300 The Alkahest. 
 
 him with impunity, for though the old man's eyes re- 
 tained the sublime clearness -which results from the 
 habit of living among great thoughts, his sense of 
 hearing was enfeebled. 
 
 To most of the peasantry, and to all vulgar and su- 
 perstitious minds, Balthazar Claes was a sorcerer. The 
 noble old mansion, once named by common consent " the 
 House of Claes," was now called in the suburbs and the 
 country districts " the Devil's House." Every outward 
 sign, even the face of Lemulquinier, confirmed the 
 ridiculous beliefs that were current about Balthazar. 
 When the old servant went to market to purchase the 
 few provisions necessary for their subsistence, picking 
 out the cheapest he could find, insults were flung in as 
 make-weights, — just as butchers slip bones into their 
 customers' meat, — and he was fortunate, poor creature, 
 if some superstitious market-woman did not refuse to 
 sell him his meagre pittance lest she be damned by con- 
 tact with an imp of hell. 
 
 Thus the feelings of the whole town of Douai were 
 hostile to the grand old man and to his attendant. The 
 neglected state of their clothes added to this repulsion ; 
 they went about clothed like paupers who have seen 
 better daj's, and who strive to keep a decent appearance 
 and are ashamed to beg. It was probable that sooner 
 or later Balthazar would be insulted in the streets. 
 Pierquin, feeling how degrading to the family any pub- 
 
The Alkahest. 301 
 
 lie insult would be, had for some time past sent two or 
 three of his own servants to follow the old man when- 
 ever he went out, and keep him in sight at a little dis- 
 tance, for the purpose of protecting him if necessary, — 
 the revolution of July not having contributed to make 
 the citizens respectful. 
 
 By one of those fatalities which can never be ex- 
 plained, Claes and Lemulquinier had gone out early in 
 the morning, thus evading the secret guardianship of 
 Monsieur and Madame Pierquin. On their way back 
 from the ramparts they sat down to sun themselves on a 
 bench in the place Saint- Jacques, an open space crossed 
 by children on their way to school. Catching sight 
 from a distance of the defenceless old men, whose faces 
 brightened as they sat basking in the sun, a crowd of 
 boys began to talk of them. Generally, children's chat- 
 ter ends in laughter ; on this occasion the laughter led to 
 jokes of which they did not know the cruelty. Seven 
 or eight of the first-comers stood at a little distance, 
 and examined the strange old faces with smothered 
 laughter and remarks which attracted Lemulquinier's 
 attention. 
 
 " Hi ! do you see that one with a head as smooth as 
 my knee ? " 
 
 ''Yes." 
 
 " Well, he was born a Wise Man." 
 
 " My papa says he makes gold," said another. 
 
g02 The Alkahest, 
 
 The j^oungest of the troop, who had his basket full 
 of provisions and was devouring a slice of bread and 
 butter, advanced to the bench and said boldly to 
 Lemulquinier, — 
 
 " Monsieur, is it true you make pearls and diamonds ?" 
 
 " Yes, my little man," replied the valet, smiling and 
 tapping him on the cheek; " we will give you some if 
 3'ou study well." 
 
 ' ' Ah ! monsieur, give me some, too," was the gen- 
 eral exclamation. 
 
 The bo^^s all rushed together like a flock of birds, and 
 surrounded the old men. Balthazar, absorbed in medi- 
 tation from which he was drawn by these sudden cries, 
 made a gesture of amazement which caused a general 
 shout of laughter. 
 
 " Come, come, boys ; be respectful to a great man," 
 said Lemulquinier. 
 
 " Hi, the old harlequin ! " cried the lads ; " the old 
 sorcerer ! you are sorcerers ! sorcerers ! sorcerers ! " 
 
 Lemulquinier sprang to his feet and threatened the 
 crowd with his cane ; they all ran to a little distance, 
 picking up stones and mud. A workman who was eat- 
 ing his breakfast near by, seeing Lemulquinier brandish 
 his cane to drive the boys awaj^, thought he had struck 
 them, and took their part, crying out, — 
 
 " Down with the sorcerers ! " 
 
 The bo3^s, feeling themselves encouraged, flung their 
 
The Alkahest, 303 
 
 missiles at the old men, just as the Comte de Solis, 
 accompanied by Pierquin's servants, appeared at the 
 farther end of the square. The latter were too late, 
 however, to save the old man and his valet from being 
 pelted with mud. The shock was given. Balthazar, 
 whose faculties had been preserved by a chastity of 
 spirit natural to students absorbed in a quest of dis- 
 covery that annihilates all passions, now suddenly di- 
 Tined, by the phenomenon of introsusception, the true 
 meaning of the scene : his decrepit body could not 
 sustain the frightful reaction he underwent in his feel- 
 ings, and he fell, struck with paralysis, into the arms 
 of Lemulquinier, who brought him to his home on a 
 shutter, attended by his sons-in-law and their servants. 
 No power could prevent the population of Douai from 
 following the body of the old man to the door of his 
 house, where Felicie and her children, Jean, Marguerite, 
 and Gabriel, whom his sister had sent for, were waiting 
 to receive him. 
 
 The arrival of the old man gave rise to a frightful 
 scene ; he struggled less against the assaults of death 
 than against the horror of seeing that his children had 
 entered the house and penetrated the secret of his im- 
 poverished life. A bed was at once made up in the 
 parlor and every care bestowed upon the stricken man, 
 whose condition, towards evening, allowed hopes that 
 his life might be preserved. The paralysis, though 
 
304 The Alkahest. 
 
 skilfully treated, kept him for some time in a state of 
 semi-childhood ; and when by degrees it relaxed, the 
 tongue was found to be especially affected, perhaps 
 because the old man's anger had concentrated all his 
 forces upon it at the moment when he was about to 
 apostrophize the children. 
 
 This incident roused a general indignation throughout 
 the town. By a law, up to that time unknown, which 
 guides the affections of the masses, this event brought 
 back all hearts to Monsieur Claes. He became once 
 more a great man ; he excited the admiration and re- 
 ceived the good- will that a few hours earlier were denied 
 to him. Men praised his patience, his strength of will, 
 his courage, his genius. The authorities wished to ar- 
 rest all those who had a share in dealing him this blow. 
 Too late, — the evil was done ! The Claes family were 
 the first to beg that the matter might be allowed to 
 drop. 
 
 Marguerite ordered furniture to be brought into the 
 parlor, and the denuded walls to be hung with silk ; and 
 when, a few daj's after his seizure, the old father re- 
 covered his faculties and found himself once more in a 
 luxurious room surrounded by all that makes life eas}^, 
 he tried to express his belief that his daughter Mar- 
 guerite had returned. At that moment she entered the 
 room. When Balthazar caught sight of her he colored, 
 and his eyes grew moist, though the tears did not fall. 
 
The Alkahest, 805 
 
 He was able to press his daughter's hand with his cold 
 fingers, putting into that pressure all the thoughts, all 
 the feelings he no longer had the power to utter. There 
 was something holy and solemn in that farewell of the 
 brain which still lived, of the heart which gratitude 
 revived. Worn out by fruitless efforts, exhausted in 
 the long struggle with the gigantic problem, desper- 
 ate perhaps at the oblivion which awaited his memory, 
 this giant among men was about to die. His children 
 surrounded him with respectful affection; his dying 
 eyes were cheered with images of plenty and the 
 touching picture of his prosperous and noble family. 
 His every look — hy wliich alone he could manifest his 
 feelings — was unchangeably affectionate ; his e}' es ac- 
 quired such variety of expression that they had, as it 
 were, a language of light, easy to comprehend. 
 
 Marguerite paid her father's debts, and restored a 
 modern splendor to the House of Claes which removed 
 all outward signs of its decay. She never left the old 
 man's bedside, endeavoring to divine his every thought 
 and accomplish his slightest wish. 
 
 Some months went by with those alternations of 
 better and worse which attend the struggle of life and 
 death in old people ; every morning his children came 
 to him and spent the daj^ in the parlor, dining by his 
 bedside and only leaving him when he went to sleep 
 for the night. The occupation which g'ave him most 
 
306 The Alkahest, 
 
 pleasure, among the many with which his family sought 
 to enliven him, was the reading of newspapers, to 
 which the political events then occurring gave a special 
 interest. Monsieur Claes listened attentively as Mon- 
 sieur de Sohs read them aloud beside his bed. 
 
 Towards the close of the year 1832, Balthazar passed 
 an extremely critical night, during which Monsieur 
 Pierquin, the doctor, was summoned by the nurse, who 
 was greatly alarmed at the sudden change which took 
 place in the patient. For the rest of the night the 
 doctor remained to watch him, fearing he might at an}^ 
 moment expire in the throes of inward convulsion, 
 whose effects were like those of a last agony. 
 
 The old man made incredible efforts to shake off the 
 bonds of his paralysis ; he tried to speak and moved 
 his tongue, unable to make a sound ; his flaming eyes 
 emitted thoughts ; his drawn features expressed an un- 
 told agony; his fingers writhed in desperation; the 
 sweat stood in drops upon his brow. In the morning 
 when his children came to his bedside and kissed him 
 with an affection which the sense of coming death made 
 day by day more ardent and more eager, he showed 
 none of his usual satisfaction at these signs of their ten- 
 derness. Emmanuel, instigated b}^ the doctor, hastened 
 to open the newspaper to try if the usual reading might 
 not relieve the inward crisis in which Balthazar was 
 evidently struggling. As he unfolded the sheet he saw 
 
The Alkahest, 307 
 
 the words, *' Discovery of the Absolute," — which 
 startled him, and he read a paragi-aph to Marguerite 
 concerning a sale made by a celebrated Polish mathe- 
 matician of the secret of the Absolute. Though Em- 
 manuel read in a low voice, and Marguerite signed to 
 him to omit the passage, Balthazar heard it. 
 
 Suddenly the dying man raised himself by his wrists 
 and cast on his frightened children a look which struck 
 like hghtning ; tlie hairs that fringed the bald head 
 stirred, the wrinkles quivered, the features were illu- 
 mined with spiritual fires, a breath passed across that 
 face and rendered it sublime ; he raised a hand, clenched 
 in fur}^, and uttered with a piercing cry the famous word 
 of Archimedes, " Eureka ! " — I have found. 
 
 He fell back upon his bed with the dull sound of an 
 inert body, and died, uttering an awful moan, — his 
 convulsed eyes expressing to the last, when the doctor 
 closed them, the regret of not bequeathing to Science 
 the secret of an Enigma whose veil was rent away, — 
 too late ! — by the fleshless fingers of Death. 
 
 J; Of THE ^K 
 
 University Press : John WiLson & Son^ Cambridge. 
 
BALZAC IN ENGLISH. 
 
 SONS OF THE SOIL. 
 
 Translated by Katharine Prescott Wormeley. 
 
 Many critics have regarded "Les Paysans," to which Miss Wormeley, 
 in her admirable translation, has given the title " Sons of the Soil," as one 
 of Balzac's strongest novels ; and it cannot fail to impress those who read 
 this English rendering of it. Fifty or sixty years ago Balzac made a pro- 
 found study of the effects produced by the Revolution upon the peasants 
 of the remote provinces of France, and he has here elaborated these obser- 
 vations in a powerful picture of one of those strange, disguised, but fero- 
 cious social wars which were at the time not only rendered possible, but 
 promoted by three potent influences, namely, the selfishness of the rich 
 landholders ; the land-hunger and stimulated greed of the peasants ; and 
 the calculated rapacity of middle-class capitalists, craftily using the hatreds 
 of the poor to forward their own plots. The first part of " Les Paysans " 
 (and the only part which was published during the author's life) appeared 
 under a title taken from an old and deeply significant proverb. Qui a terre 
 a guerre, — "Who has land has war." 
 
 It is the account of a guerilla war conducted by a whole country-side 
 against one great land-owner, —a war in which, moreover, the lawless 
 aggressions of the peasantry are prompted, supported, and directed by an 
 amazing alliance between the richest, most unscrupulous, and most power- 
 ful of the neighboring provincial magnates, who, by controlling, through - 
 family council, the local administration, are in a position to paralyze resist- 
 ance to their conspiracy. The working out of this deep plot affords the 
 author opportunity for the introduction of a whole gallery of marvellous 
 studies. 
 
 It is perhaps hardly necessary to say that this powerful and absorbing 
 story is lifted above the level of romance by the unequalled artistic genius 
 of the author, and that it is at times almost transformed into a profound 
 political study by the depth and acumen of his suggestions and comments. 
 Nor should it be requisite to point out analogies with territorial conditions 
 in more than one other country, which lend to " Les Paysans " a special 
 interest and significance, and are likely to prevent it from becoming obsolete 
 for a long time to come. Of the translation it only need be said that it is 
 as good as Miss Wormeley has accustomed us to expect, and that means 
 the best rendering of French into English that has ever been done. — 
 iVew York Tribune. 
 
 Handsome 12mo volume, bound in half Russia. Price, 
 $1.50. 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 
 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
BALZAC IN ENGLISH, 
 
 Kame and Sorrow, 
 
 ^nti ©tfter stories, 
 
 TRANSLATED BY KATHARINE PRESCOTT WORMELEY. 
 
 i2mo. Half Russia. Uniform with our edition of Balzac's 
 "Works. Price, $1.50. In addition to this remarkable story, 
 the volume contains the following, namely : " Colonel Chabert," 
 " The Atheist's Mass," " La Grande Breteche," " The Purse," and 
 " La Grenadiere." 
 
 The force and passion of the stories of Balzac are unapproachable. He had 
 the art of putting into half a dozen pages all the fire and stress which many 
 writers, who are still greet, cannot compass in a volume. The present volume is 
 an admirable collection, and presents well his power of handling the short story. 
 That the translation is excellent need hardly be said — Boston Courier. 
 
 The six stories^ admirably translated by Miss Wormeley, afford good examples 
 of Balzac's work m what not a few critics have thought his chief specialty. It is 
 certain that no writer of many novels wrote so many short stories as he ; and it is 
 equally as certain that his short stories are, almost without an exception, models 
 of what such compositions ought to be. . . . No modern author, however, of any 
 school whatever, has succeeded in producing short stories lialf so good as Balzac's 
 best. Balzac did not, indeed, attempt to display his subtility and deftness by 
 writing short stories about nothing. Every one of his tales contains an episode, 
 not necessarily, but usually, a dramatic episode The first in the present collec- 
 tion, better known as " La Maison du Chat-qui-pelote," is really a short novel. 
 It has all the machinery, all the interest, all the detail of a regular story. The 
 difference is that it is compressed as Balzac only could compress; that here and 
 there important events, changes, etc., are indicated in a few powerful lines instead 
 of being elaborated; that the vital points are thrown into strong relief. Take the 
 pathetic story of "Colonel Chabert" It begins with an elaboration of detail. 
 The description of the lawyer's office might seem to some too minute. But it is 
 the stage upon which the Colonel is to appear, and when he enters we see the 
 value of the preliminaries, for a picture is presented which the memory seizes and 
 holds. As the action progresses, detail is used more parsimoniously, because the 
 titise-en-scene has already been completed, and because, also, the characters once 
 clearly described, the development of character and the working of passion can 
 be indicated with a few pregnant strokes. Notwithstanding this increasing 
 economy of space, the action takes on a swifter intensity, and the culmination of 
 the tragedy leaves the reader breathless. 
 
 In " The Atheist s Mass " we have quite a new kind of story This is rather 
 a psychological study than a narrative of action. Two widely distinguished char- 
 acters are thrown on the canvas here, — that of the great surgeon and that of the 
 humble patron ; and one knows not which most to admire, the vigor of the 
 drawing, or the subtle and lucid psychical analysis. In both there is rare beauty of 
 soul, and perhaps, after all, the poor Auvergnat surpasses the eminent surgeon, 
 though this is a delicate and difficult question. But how complete the little story 
 is; how much it tells ; with what skill, and in how delightful a manner! Then 
 there is that tremendous haunting legend of " La Grande Breteche," a story which 
 has always been turned into more languages and twisted into more new forms than 
 almost any other of its kind extant. What author has equalled the continuing 
 horror of that unfaithful wife's agony, compelled to look on and assist at the slow 
 murder of her entrapped lover? . . Then the death of the husband and wife, — 
 the one by quick and fiercer dissipation, the other by simple refusal to live longer. 
 — and the abandonment of the accursed dwelling to solitude and decay, complete 
 a picture, which for vividness, emotional force, imaginative power, and compre- 
 hensiveness of effects, can be said to have few equals in its own class of fiction. — 
 Kansas City Journal. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price, by 
 the publishers^ 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston. 
 
BALZAC IN ENGLISH. 
 
 The Magic Skin. 
 
 (LA PEAU DE CHAGRIN.) 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 KATHARINE PRESCOTT WORMELEY. 
 
 "The Magic Skin " is a great novel, — great in its conception, great in its 
 execution, and great in the impression it leaves upon the reader's mind. Those 
 who deny that Balzac is a moral teacher will retract their opinion after reading this 
 powerful allegory. It is a picturesque representation of the great moral truth that 
 in life we have to pay for every excess we enjoy. In the gradual shrinking of the 
 "Magic Skin" we see the inevitable law that by uncontrolled dissipation of body 
 or mind we use up our physical strength and exhaust our vitality. In that beauti- 
 ful, cold, fascinating character. Fedora, the writer shows us the glittering world of 
 fashion and frivolity which men pursue vainly and find to their Cost only dust and 
 ashes. In the gentle, loving, and devoted Pauline, Balzac represents the lasting 
 and pure pleasures of domestic life. But in Raphael's short enjoyment of them 
 we see the workings of that inflexible law, " Whatever ye sow that shall ye also 
 reap." In the vivid, striking, realistic picture of Parisian life which Balzac pre- 
 sents to us in "The Magic Skin," the writer had a conscious moral purpose. We 
 know of no more awful allegory in literature. — Boston Transcript. 
 
 The story is powerful and original ; but its readers will be most affected by its 
 marvellous knowledge of human nature, and the deep-cutting dissection of charac- 
 ter which makes the attempts of our own analytical novelists appear superficial 
 and experimental. Life in all classes of the Paris of Louis Philippe's time is por- 
 trayed in the strongest lights and .shadows, and with continual flashes of wit, 
 satire, and sarcasm which spare neither politician, philosopher, priest, poet, jour- 
 nalist, artist, man of the world, nor woman of the world. Through a maze of 
 heterogeneous personages Raphael, the hero, is carried, pursued by the relentless 
 Magic Skin, which drives him mercilessly to his doom. The vices of high society 
 are laid bare ; but there is also a beautiful exposition of purity in the humble life 
 of Pauline, who is the good angel of the story. In translating " La Peau de Cha- 
 grin" Miss Wormeley has done work that is at once skilful and discreet. It is a 
 man's book, virile though not vulgar, and exposing prominences in French social 
 views such as most writers veil in obscurities. Here all is frankly and honestly 
 shown, but by a man of genius, who had no more need of prudish hypocrisy than 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Mr. Parsons' s thoughtful preface is a fitting introduction to the most wonder- 
 ful of all Balzac's romances. It is not a whit too strong for Mr. Parsons to write 
 that, saving Shakespeare, "no man could have been better fitted to examine men- 
 tal processes, to gauge their effects, to estimate their significance, and to define 
 their nature and scope ' than Balzac. If Balzac had been a German, and not a 
 P'renchman of the French, this book of his would be as much of an epoch-maker 
 »s Goethe's " Faust." It may take years before the fuller appreciation of " La 
 Peau de Chagrin " comes, but it is a study of life which will be studied in cen- 
 turies yet to come. — New Y'ork Times. 
 
 One handsome \2mo volume., uniform with '•'■ Plre Goriot^'* " The 
 Duchesse de Langeais^'' '■''Cesar Birotteau,"" '''•Eugenie Grandet,^^ 
 ''^Cousin Pons,*' " The Country Doctor;* " The Two Brothers ;* ''The 
 Alkahest;* and '•' Modeste Mignony Bound in half morocco., French 
 style. Frice^$i.^o. 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 
 
 Boston. 
 
BALZAC IN ENGLISH 
 
 COUSIN BETTE. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 KATHARINE PRESCOTT WORMELEY. 
 
 He [Balzac] does not make Vice the leading principle of life. The most terrible 
 punishment invariably awaits transgressors. . . . Psychologically considered, 
 " Cousin Bette " with the " Peau de Chagrin " and " The Alkahest " are the most 
 
 Eowerf ul of all Balzac's studies. The marvellous acquaintance this romance-writer 
 ad with all phases and conditions of French men and women has never been 
 more strongly accentuated. For a French romance presenting difficulties in 
 translation, Miss Wormeley's work is excellent. Its faithfulness is even remark- 
 able. We can hardly conceive that after this series is completed Balzac will 
 remain unknown or unappreciated by American readers. — New York Times. 
 
 Balzac aspired to paint French life, especially Parisian life, in all its aspects, — 
 " the great modem monster with its every face, ' to use his own words ; and in no 
 one of his novels is his insight keener, his coloring bolder, or his disclosures of the 
 corruptions of city life more painfully realistic, than in " Cousin Bette." . . . Not 
 one of the admirably rendered series shows more breadth, skill, and sympathy 
 with every characteristic of the great French author than does this. And it is 
 "quite a marvel of translation. — The A tnerican^ Philadelphia. 
 
 'T is true the book is not for babes, but he must have strange views of innocence 
 who would ignore the influence for good inherent in such a work. Ignorance con- 
 stitutes but a sorry shield against the onslaughts of temptation. It is well if wis- 
 dom can be so cheaply got as by the perusal of the book. — Americatt Hebrew. 
 
 It is an awful picture, but it is emphatically a work of genius. ... It cannot 
 be said that " Cousin Bette " is a book for those who like onl)r optimistic presen- 
 tations of life. It is a study in morbid pathology ; an inquiry into the working of 
 passions and vices, the mischief actually caused by what in all human societies is 
 too patent and too constantly in evidence to be denied or ignored. . . He [Bal- 
 zac] must be judged by the scientific standard, and from that point of view there 
 can be no hesitation in declaring " Cousin Bette " a most powerful work. — New 
 York Tribune. 
 
 And there is much in the characters that is improper and fortunately counter to 
 our civilization ; still the tone concerning these very things is a healthy one, and 
 Balzac's belief in purity and goodness, his faith in the better part of humanity, is 
 shown in the beautiful purity of Madame Hulot, and the lovely chastity of Hor- 
 tense. In " Cousin Bette," as in all Balzac's works, he manifests a familiarity 
 with the ethics of life which has gained for him the exalted position as the greatest 
 of French novelists. — .S"^. Paul Dispatch. 
 
 One handsome \7,mo volume.^ uniform with " Plre Goriot,^* " The 
 Duchesse de Langeais,'*^ " Cesar Birotteau,^^ " Eugenie Grandet^^^ 
 " Cousin Pons;' " The Country Doctor,'' " The Two Brothers," " The 
 Alkahest," " The Magic Skin," and " Modeste Mignon." Bound in half 
 morocco, French Style. Price, ^1.50. 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 
 
 Boston. 
 
BALZAC IN ENGLISH 
 
 LOUIS LAMBERT. 
 
 "As for Balzac," writes Oscar Wilde, " he was a most remarkable combination 
 of the artistic temperament with the scientific spirit." It is his artistic tempera- 
 ment which reveals itself the most clearly in the novel before us. As we read 
 "Louis Lambert," we feel convinced that it is largely autobiographical. It is a 
 psychical study as delicate as Amiel's Journal, and nearly as spiritual. We follow 
 the life of the sensitive, poetical schoolboy, feeling that it is a true picture of Bal ; 
 zac's own youth. When the literary work on which the hero had written for years 
 in all his spare moments is destroyed, we do not need to be told by Mr. Parsons 
 that this is an episode in Balzac's own experience ; we are sure of this fact already ; 
 and no writer could describe so sympathetically the deep spiritual experiences of 
 an aspiring soul who had not at heart felt them keenly. No materialist could have 
 written " Louis Lambert." — Boston Transcript. 
 
 Of all of Balzac's works thus far translated by Miss Katharine Prescott Wormeley, 
 the last in the series, " Louis Lambert," is the most difficult of comprehension. 
 It is the second of the author's Philosophical Studies, "The Magic Skin" being 
 the first, and " Seraphita," shortly to be published, being the third and last. In 
 "Louis Lambert" Balzac has presented a study of a noble soul — a spirit of 
 exalted and iofty aspirations which chafes under the fetters of earthly existence, 
 and has no sympathy with the world of materialism. This pure-souled genius is 
 made the medium, moreover, for the enunciation of the outlines of a system of 
 philosophy which goes to the very roots of Oriental occultism and mysticism as its 
 source, and which thus reveals the marvellous scope of Balzac's learning. The 
 scholarly introduction to the book by George Frederic Parsons, in addition to 
 throwing a great deal of valuable light upon other phases of the work, shows how 
 many of the most recent scientific theories are directly in line with the doctrines 
 broadly set forth by Balzac nearly sixty years ago. The book is one to be studied 
 rather than read ; and it is made intelligible by the extremely able introduction 
 and by Miss Wormeley's excellent translation. — The Book-Buyer. 
 
 "Louis Lambert," with the two other members of the Trilogy, " La Peau de 
 Chagrin " and " Seraphita," is a book which presents many difficulties to the 
 student. It deals with profound and unfamiliar subjects, and the meaning of the 
 author by no means lies on the surface. It is the study of a great, aspiring sou) 
 enshrined in a feeble body, the sword wearing out the scabbard, the spirit soaring 
 away from its prison-house of flesh to its more congenial home. It is in marked 
 contrast to the study of the destructive and debasing process which we see in the 
 " Peau de Chagrin." It stands midway between this study of the mean and base 
 and that noble presentation of the final evolution of a soul on the very borders of 
 Divinity which Balzac gives us in " Seraphita." 
 
 The reader not accustomed to such high ponderings needs a guide to place him 
 en rapport with the Seer. Such a guide and friend he finds in Mr. Parsons, 
 whos« introduction of one hundred and fifty pages is by no means the least valu- 
 able part of this volume. It is impossible to do more than sketch the analysis of 
 Balzac's philosophy and the demonstration so successfully attempted by Mr. Par- 
 sons of the exact correlation between many of Balzac's speculations and the 
 newest scientific theories. The introduction is so closely written that it defies 
 much condensation. It is so intrinsically valuable that it will thoroughly repay 
 careful and minute study. — Prom " Light" a London Journal o/ Psychical and 
 Occult Research, March 9,1889. 
 
 One handsome X2mo volume^ uniform with " P'^re Goriot,''^ " The 
 Dtichesse de Langeais,''^ " Cesar Birotteau,^^ " Eugenie Grandet,"^ 
 " Cousin Pons;' " The Country Doctor," " The Two Brothers;' " T/ta 
 Alkahest;' " Modeste Mignon;' " The Magic Skitt;' ^^ Cousin Bette.'^ 
 Bound in half morocco^ Prench Style. Price, ^1.50. 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 
 
 Boston. 
 
BALZAC IN ENGLISH. 
 
 MODESTE MiGNON 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 KATHARINE PRESCOTT WORMELEY. 
 
 In " Modeste Mignon " we still have that masterly power of analysis, keen, 
 incisive, piercing superficiality and pretence, as a rapier pierces a doublet, but we 
 have in addition the puritv and sweetness of a genuine light comedy, — a comedy 
 which has for its central object the delineation of the mysteries of a young girl'g 
 mind. 
 
 As a whole, " Modeste Mi??non " is not only a masterpiece of French art, but 
 a masterpiece of that master before whom later novelists must pale their ineffec- 
 tual fires. As the different examples of Balzac's skill are brought before the pub- 
 lic through the excellent translations by Miss Wormeley, none competent to judge 
 can fail to perceive the power of that gigantic intellect which projected and carried 
 out the scheme of the Comedie Humaine.nor fail to understand the improvement 
 in literature that would result if Balzac's methods and aims were carefully studied 
 by all who aspire to the name of novelist. — Neiv York Home Journal. 
 
 The public owes a debt of gratitude to the industrious translator of Balzac'* 
 masterpieces. They follow one another with sufficient rapidity to stand in striking 
 contrast with each other. The conscientious reader of them cannot but lay down one 
 after another with an increasing admiration for their author's marvellous grasp upon 
 the great social forces which govern the thought and actions of men. In " Modeste 
 Mignon," as in " Eugenie Grandet," we find that the tremulous vibrations of first 
 love in the heart of a young and pure-minded girl are not deemed unworthy of this 
 great artist's study. The delicate growth of a sentiment which gradually expanded 
 into a passion, and which was absolutely free from any taint of sensuality, is 
 analyzed in " Modeste Mignon" with consummate skill. The plot of this book 
 is far from extraordinary. It is even commonplace. But where in these days 
 shall we find another author who can out of such a simple plot make a story Uke 
 the one before us? The many-sidedness of Balzac's genius is widely acknowl- 
 edged; but there are probably few people among those whose acquaintance with 
 his writings has been necessarily limited to translations who could conceive of him 
 producing such a bright and sparkling story, thoroughly realistic, full of vitalizing 
 power, keen analysis, and depth of study and reflection, brilliantly imaginative, 
 and showing an elasticity in its creative process which cannot fail to attract every 
 lover of a higher and better art in fiction. 
 
 But light and delicate as Balzac's touch generally is throughout this volume, 
 there is also shown a slumbering force which occasionally awakens and delivers a 
 blow that seems as if it had been struck by the hammer of Thor. He ranges over 
 the whole scale of human passion and emotion, penetrates into the very inmost 
 chambers of the heart, apprehends its movements, and lays bare its weakness 
 with a firm and yet delicate touch of his scalpel. The book has been excellently 
 translated by Miss Wormeley. She is fully in sympathy with the author, and has 
 caught his spirit, and the result is a translation which preserves the full flavor, 
 vigor, and delicacy of the original. 
 
 One handsome izmo volume, uniform with " Phre Goriot,'*^ " The 
 Duchesse de Langeais,''^ '^^ Cesar Birodeau,^^ '■'■ Etigenie Grandet,** 
 ** Cousin Pons,'''' " The Country Doctor,*'' ^^The Two Brothers," and 
 ^^ The Alkahest.** Half morocco, French style. Price, $1.^0. 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 
 
 Boston. 
 
BALZAC IN ENGLISH. 
 
 COUSIN PONS. 
 
 *' It is late in the day to speak of the genius of Balzac, but it is worth while to 
 commend the reader to the admirable translation of a number of his works 
 issued by an American firm of publishers. The work of Miss Wormeley, whose 
 name does not appear upon the titlepage, but who is said to be the translator, is 
 deserving of the highest praise. Balzac's intensely idiomatic French, as well as 
 his occasional treatment of recondite subjects, and his frequent elucidation of 
 complicated business transactions, render the translation of his works difficult ; but 
 the present translator has turned the original into clear and fluent English, read- 
 ing not at all like a translation, yet preserving Balzac's vigorous and characteristic 
 style. It is not only the best translation of Balzac which we have, — which would 
 not be high praise, since English versions of his novels have hitherto been few and 
 fragmentary, — but one of the most excellent translations of any French author 
 which we have met. The publishers have laid the American readers under 
 obligation both by undertaking the enterprise of presenting Balzac in an English 
 dress, and by their selection of a translator ; and it is most desirable that they 
 should complete the work so well begun by putting within the reach of English- 
 speaking readers the remainder of that marvellous body of fiction, The Covtidie 
 Humaine." — The Church Review. 
 
 " ' Cousin Pons ' is the latest translation in the Balzac series now being issued 
 by Roberts Brothers, Boston. It is a strong story of friendship and of greed. To 
 all intents and purposes the narrative indicates a complete and perfect triumph of 
 vice over virtue ; but vice is painted in such hideous colors, and virtue is shown in 
 such effulgent beauty, as to make the moral well-nigh awe-inspiring. Balzac does 
 not stay the natural course of events. He permits each character to work out its 
 own results, and then makes the impression desired by comparative methods. In 
 this, as in all his works, the wonderful writer manifests a familiarity with the 
 ethics of life which has gained for him the eternal remembrance and gratitude 
 of all readers ; and it is fair to presume that the Balzac now being translated and 
 published by the Roberts Brothers will revive his name and bring again to hia 
 feet the world of English-speaking people-" — Springfield Republican. 
 
 " The last translation from Balzac brought out by Roberts Brothers in their 
 new and beautiful edition is one of the famous Frenchman's most original stories. 
 It is, in fact, one of the most extraordinary and original novels ever written, and 
 only the mind of a genius could have conceived such a peculiar plot. The heroine 
 of the novel — for whom the principal character sacrifices his comfort, his pleasure, 
 and indeed his life ; for whom many other characters in the book sacrifice their 
 honor ; and around whom all the excitement and interest centres — is, strangely 
 enough, not a woman ; and yet this heroine calls forth the most ardent and 
 passionate devotion a man is capable of, and her influence is elevating and not 
 degrading. The manner in which a mania of any kind can absorb a man, body 
 and soul, is wonderfully brought out in ' Cousin Pons ; ' for the heroine of the 
 book is a collection of curios. 
 
 "Those who have formed a hasty judgment of Balzac from reading the * Duchesse 
 (Je Langeais' would do well to read 'Cousin Pons.' Balzac sees and depicts 
 virtue as perfectly as vice, and it is his faculty of describing beauty as well as 
 ugliness which has made him famous. The delicacy of perception which enabled 
 him to perceive and describe every shade of feeling in 'Cousin Pons J and to 
 appreciate the nobility of Schmucke's character is the chief characteristic of 
 genius. The reader must read all the ' Scenes from Parisian Life ' to have any 
 full conception of Balzac's greatness. His breadth of vision, his dramatic power, 
 his searching analysis of the most transient emotions, and his quick perceptions of 
 beauty, are all evident in * Cousin Pons.' It is an interesting, exciting novel, a 
 perfect piece of literary execution, and a story which is, if sad, neither coarse nor 
 immoral." — Boston Transcript. ^ 
 
 One handsome i2mo volume, uniform with " Pere Goriot," 
 " Duchesse de Langeais," " Cesar Birotteau," " Eugenie Grandet.** 
 Bound in half morocco, French style. Price, $1.50. 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers^ Boston. 
 
BALZAC IN ENGLISH 
 
 EUGENIE GRANDET. 
 
 A GREAT NOVEL. 
 
 *' Honord de Balzac wrote many books to each of which this title may justly 
 be applied. We apply it in the present instance to ' Eugenie Grandet,' one of 
 his very greatest works, — one which, in the opinion of a large number of persons, 
 divides with ' Le P^re Goriot ' the honor of being his masterpiece, Englishmeo 
 are prone to hold that in English fiction there is no such beautiful and complete , 
 embodiment of a good woman as Fielding's Amelia ; Frenchmen, we should fancy, * 
 must ascribe a similar position to Eugenie Grandet, The book of which she is the 
 central figure, the Rembrandt-contrast to the ignoble spirits by whom she is sur* 
 rounded, has been beyond a doubt one of the most widely read of French novels ; 
 and now that it has been rendered into excellent English, and presented in a 
 highly attractive form, it will undoubtedly pass into the mental experience of a 
 multitude who would otherwise have lacked more than a hearsay knowledge of 
 its beauty. The translation of the novels so fax published by the Messrs, Roberts 
 Brothers deserves more than the mere word that can be given to it here. Although 
 French is a language much easier to read than German, it is a far more difficult 
 task to turn French prose into idiomatic English prose than to do the same by 
 German, and we do not remember ever to have seen any translation of French 
 into English which is so near being uniformly idiomatic as these versions of 
 Balzac now under consideration." — Boston Post. 
 
 " Not to know Balzac, Mr. Robert Louis Stevenson has declared to be an 
 ignorance 'that will soon be excuseless, and we hope rare.' Not to know Balzac 
 is certainly to lose one of the highest intellectual pleasures and to shut out one of 
 the profoundest educational forces of literature in this century. Balzac's work is 
 throughout full of power." — Brooklyn Times. 
 
 " This volume comes to us as the fourth in the series of translations of Balzac's 
 novels, published by this well-known Boston house. His sketches of character 
 are nowhere more strong and masterly than in this book, where he depicts the 
 miser, Grandet, in all the repulsiveness which belongs to a narrow, grasping, and 
 unscrupulous nature, in contrast with his patient, long-suffering, repressed, but 
 faithful and tender wife. Their only child, Eugenie, is the heroine of the story; 
 and her strong, simple, and loving nature, which leads her to sacrifice her future 
 for a brilliant but unworthy cousin, who wins her heart, and then forgets her in 
 his search for a more ambitious alliance, furnishes a theme where Balzac's literary 
 skill and keen analysis of motives are seen at their best. We regret that the 
 name of the translator has not been made public, for his work is well done, and 
 deserves special commendation in these days, when so many poor translations of 
 foreign works are offered to the public." — Portland Press. 
 
 The London Atheweum says of the translation of Balzac which Roberts 
 "Brothers are publishing, that it is "very much above the average of English 
 translation of French." 
 
 One handsome ximo volume, uniform with " Pire Goriot^'' '' Duchesse de 
 Langeais," and " Cisar Birotteau." Bound in half morocco, French style. 
 Price. Si. 50. _ , ,. , 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 
 
 Boston. 
 
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 1 
 
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 WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN 
 THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY 
 WILL INCREASE TO SO CENTS ON THE FOURTH 
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 OVERDUE. 
 
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